No Regrets (Bomar Boys #1) (4 page)

There was no reason for her to stay in the Jeep, not really, but she didn’t need to know that either. He couldn’t focus with her standing around watching him. And she was watching him, he could feel her eyes on him even from beneath the shade of those sunglasses she was wearing. He’d always been able to feel her gaze like a caress and he was oddly pleased to note that hadn’t changed even as he cursed his body’s instinctive awareness of her.

Only, even with her out of his line of sight, he was distracted and it took him twice as long to hook the Jeep up as it should have. The entire time, he was intensely aware of the fact that he was letting his brother down by not showing for the fight. Unfortunately he was also insanely aware that Jemma was mere feet away, on the other side of a pane of glass, and watching his every move.

Here. She was here. Not hundreds of miles away like she was supposed to be. Not completely out of reach like he’d thought she was. She was here, close enough to touch, not that she would ever allow him to touch her.

Not after the things he’d said. Not after he’d hurt her. Not after the way he’d used her own feelings against her.

“You about done out here?”

Cash grit his teeth at the sound of her voice behind him, “Yeah.”

“Good. I’d like to get going sometime before my next birthday if you don’t mind.”

“I’m all done.” He finished latching the last lock and turned around, “Go ahead and load up in the truck and we can head out.”

She was closer than she’d been before, an arm’s length away now, and he froze solid when he saw that she’d taken off her glasses. The sun had gone down when he was working. She didn’t need them to block the bright setting sun but it was in the light of the flashing hazards that he got a clear view of her for the first time and a cold chill ran up his spine.

“Holy fuck, Jemma, what happened to your face?”

Her eyes, those glorious green eyes with the flecks of gold, shuttered shut and she stared at the ground instead of at him for the first time. She was silent and completely still, as if she wasn’t even breathing. Her shoulders curled into herself and a flash of white-hot rage flared in his veins. She was black and blue and he’d been hit enough times to know where bruises like hers came from.

She had a black eye. Her lip was busted and her pretty cheekbone was swollen and bruised as well. The bright colors told him it hadn’t happened long ago, a day, maybe two, but no more. She was fair-skinned, always had been, and his eyes immediately skated over the rest of her with a more discerning eye, searching for more damage and only returning to her face when he didn’t find any.

“Jemma, answer me.” He took a step towards her and then slammed on the brakes when she scrambled backwards.

Was she scared of him? An icy shard of certainty pierced his chest and he knew that he was right. Somebody had hit her. A man had hit her. She had reason enough to hate him. He’d given her just cause to despise him but he never would have raised a hand to her and she knew that. She wasn’t scared of him. She was scared in general because someone had hurt her. He knew the look well.

“Jem…” He softened his tone, “Who did that to your face? Who hurt you?”

Her chin tilted up and she shook her head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I fell down a flight of stairs.”

The blatant lie hit him like a ton of bricks. She was lying.
To him
. He gaped at her for a long moment. The Jemma he had known was a terrible liar. The truth always shown through in her eyes, in the way that she couldn’t help but fidget. This woman held herself perfectly still, icily still, and had clearly told her fair share of lies because if he hadn’t known better, he would have believed her.

“Bullshit.”

She shrugged.

“Goddamnit Jemma, somebody hurt you and you’re going to tell me who it was so I can track the fucker down and return the favor.”

Her aloof mask faltered and her brows furrowed, “I… but… you would do that?”

“Not would. Will. I just need a name.”

“Wh… why?”

Because nobody should ever raise a hand to a woman. Because she had belonged to him once and the idea of another man touching her in any way infuriated him. Because he’d let her go so that she would be safe, so that she could find someone better than him, someone that deserved her and would give her the world, not so that some other asshole could beat her black and blue.

“Because any man that would dare raise a hand to you, isn’t a man.” He edged closer to her and winced when she took another step back, keeping space between them, “I would never hurt you, Jemma. You know that.”

“I know.” She nodded slightly, her gaze dropping again and her voice barely a whisper when she added, “Not physically at least.”

“Jem…”

There were a hundred things he wanted to say to that. A thousand things that he wanted to explain. But when she glanced back up, all of his excuses faded, words escaped him, and he couldn’t manage another syllable.

“Cash, I can’t do this…” Her bottom lip began to tremble and he closed the space between them before she could object.

He wrapped his arms around her and tucked her against his chest. He thought, for a painful split-second, that she was going to shove him away when she stiffened. Then, just as quickly as the tension had flared through her body, she melted against him. She leaned against him and he felt a shudder roll through her small body before she raised her arms and put them around him as well.

Jesus, was she crying. Jemma,
his
Jemma, wasn’t a crier. She hadn’t cried even when he stomped all over her heart and called her those awful names. She hadn’t cried when he walked out on her. She hadn’t cried when she got in her car and drove out of this godforsaken town and promised never to come back.

But here she was, running home because someone else had hurt her even worse than he had. He could put that much together. It was the only thing that made sense. She wouldn’t have ever come back here unless it was her last resort.

It gutted him, absolutely destroyed him, to see her in pain, but he was thankful that she had come here if she was in danger. If she was here, he could protect her. She couldn’t have come here thinking she was coming home to him, but she had. She just didn’t know it yet.

“Jem, who did this to you?” He gently stroked her back.

“A bastard.” She sniffed, her words muffled by his shirt. “A bastard even worse than you.”

“You’re not going to give me his name?” He ignored the rest, because he deserved that, even if he hated that particular word and she knew it.

He might very well be a bastard in the literal sense. He’d wished he was for too long. If he was a bastard, then he wasn’t Decker’s son. And yet, in another way, being a bastard meant he was exactly like Decker.

“No.” Her fists balled against his back, weakly hitting him before she pulled away, “I hate you.”

“I know.” He let her go, “I accepted that a long time ago.”

“Don’t you dare pity me Cash Bomar.” The fire returned to her eyes as she attempted to wipe away the tears and he caught a flash of light that made his stomach turn all over again. She was wearing a huge diamond ring on her left hand. Her engagement ring. “You of all people do not get to pity me. I don’t need your pity and I don’t need your help.”

A flare of his own temper had him fighting the urge to flex his fists even if he would never use them on her. It wasn’t the ring that made him angry. That’s what he told himself. It was the way she said his name, as if he was the lowest of the low, the scum of the earth. He had done something unforgivable to her when they had been nothing more than stupid kids but it was more than that. It was the same kind of nasty judgement he saw on the faces of all the supposed upper-class citizens of Old Settlers when they looked at him, simply because he was a Bomar and therefore beneath them.

“You’re right. You don’t. I’m sure you can find another way back to town. I’ll just get going.”

He turned on his heel and heard her gasp. He made it all the way to the door of the truck before he felt her behind him. She grabbed his arm and he pulled up short.

“You’re right. I do need your help. I’m sorry.”

Cash turned back to face her, “You don’t apologize to me Jemma. Ever.”

Her eyes darted over his face and he watched as she physically pulled herself back together. Her back straightened and her chin came up again. Her eyes, those eyes that he had fallen into more times than he could count, threatened to swallow him with the emotions she couldn’t hide. Finally, she gave a short nod of acceptance.

He sighed, “Get in. I’ll get you back to town. We don’t have to talk if that’s really the way you want it.”

She nodded and then headed for the passenger door. He swiped a hand over his face again and tried to find his balance. Her sudden reappearance in his life had knocked him sideways. He wasn’t sure he knew up from down right now or if he ever had where she was concerned. She’d tied him up in knots from the time they were kids and only one thing had ever mattered to him. Protecting her. Five years apart hadn’t changed that. Nothing would.

If she didn’t want to talk, he would find some other way to learn her secrets. He would talk to Colt after he got her somewhere safe. Colt was friendly with Skylar and the other woman knew all of Jemma’s secrets. It was possible his twin knew something or could find out if he asked him to.

It was sneaky and dishonest but it was in no way the worst thing he had ever done. He’d do far worse to protect her. He already had.

She could only assume the big man upstairs was having a good long laugh at this turn of events. Not only was she broke and stranded, reduced to running home to a place that was no longer home, but she was now at the mercy of the last man on earth she’d ever hoped to see again. Well, after recent events Hoyt had smoothly transitioned into first place of that race but the menacing man-beast beside her still ran a close second.

Jemma squirmed in the passenger seat of the tow truck, trying to find a comfortable position. It was impossible. Her entire body was sore and she ached, physically as much as emotionally. She was bruised and dirty, irreparably damaged, and yet somehow, amid all of that, more than anything she was embarrassed.

She hated that he was seeing her like this. Hated that flash of pity she’d seen in his eyes on the side of the road. Hated that it had taken her less than a handful of minutes in his presence for her pride to falter and the tears that she had sworn were under control to break free. She hated that she’d clung to him like a lifeline when Cash Bomar was the furthest thing from a safe zone imaginable.

She pretended she didn’t feel his eyes on her as he put the truck into gear and got them on the road. She’d known she had bad luck but this was a little extreme. The first boy she’d ever opened herself up to, trusted and loved, the same boy that had ripped her heart out and sent her fleeing their small hometown only five short years ago, was the man her guardian angel had sent to save her.

Cash was no angel though. Far from it. She knew that. There was no halo lurking over his handsome head, dusty or otherwise. He might not have horns and a pointy tail but then again, the devil himself had once been God’s most beautiful angel hadn’t he?

Even knowing that, it was impossible not to notice that he’d grown into his good looks. He’d always been handsome in a rough, reckless sort of way. With his square jaw, dented chin and boyish dimples he was all hard angles and unexpected softness. His hair was a shade darker, sandy brown with natural streaks of gold. It was longer too, tumbling over his forehead in that haphazard way that made a girl itch to push it back out of his eyes.

Because his eyes were beautiful pools of sparkling blue intensity. Whoever had said that eyes were the windows to the soul must have been talking about Cash because his held all the secrets he thought were so well hidden. It was those eyes that had given him away when he’d been trying so hard to convince her and the world at large that he was an asshole and it was his eyes that even now, hinted he cared more than he should.

“Jemma?”

She strangled a whimper at the sound of her name in that deeply familiar voice, and refused to meet his probing gaze, “You said we didn’t have to talk.”

A heavy sigh filled the cab of the truck and she fought a glance as he shifted in the seat next to her. They were too close. This close to him she could feel his body heat and she had to fight against the lulling sense of safety his distinctive masculine scent created. Soap and sweat shouldn’t have been sexy, particularly not after what she’d been through, but somehow Cash broke through all of that.

He broke through everything; he always had.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened but…”

“I already told you. I fell down a flight of stairs.” She lied even though she knew he didn’t believe her.

How could he? If there was one person on the face of the planet that knew what abuse looked like, it had to be Cash. She knew his history. She knew his family. Which meant he knew what a black eye from the swing of a fist looked like. She pulled the cuffs of her long sleeve t-shirt down to her fingers, ensuring the marks on her arms were covered.

She expected him to yell at her for lying. The Cash she’d known would have. His temper might not have been as quick to ignite as some of his other family members’ but it was still there. She’d seen the flare of anger in every fiber of his big, muscular body when he’d realized she was hurt and maybe that should have scared her after what Hoyt had done but it hadn’t.

Because she knew Cash wasn’t that type. He’d never scared her with his size or his temper. The things he made her feel however, those things had always scared her.

She was far more worried about the weakness inside her when it came to Cash than she was his violent nature. She’d been so certain that after what he did she could hate him forever, but one glimpse of his concern had opened up some dark well of emotions she’d thought was sealed shut. He’d tugged her against his hard chest, offered comfort, and that chasm had widened into something with sharp, dangerous edges when he offered to hurt whoever had hit her, no questions asked.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Jem.”

She bit her lip then winced because she’d forgotten it was busted again, “I don’t have to tell you the truth either.”

That earned her another heavy sigh and she fought the urge to curl against him and accept the comfort he offered. What was that? She hated him.
She did
. She’d spent a lot of time and energy turning her feelings against him after what he had done. She couldn’t take comfort in the arms of a man that had lashed out at her with words just because another one had lashed out at her with his fists.

“No. I guess you don’t.”

They rolled down the highway in silence for a couple of miles and she stared out the window as darkness closed in all around her. It was all so strangely familiar. Nothing had changed. The same flat, dusty plains stretched out on either side of her and if she closed her eyes and let the equally familiar scent of Cash envelope her then she could almost pretend that she was just an innocent teenage girl riding around with the boy she loved.

Almost. She opened her eyes and blew out a long breath. But not quite.

“Where do you need me to drop you?”

She jerked to face him at that question, “Uh, the garage?”

“Garage’ll be closed by the time we get back into town.” His eyes narrowed, “I can drop your car for Auto to take a look at but tomorrow’s Sunday so I can’t make any promises he’ll get to it. You can check on it Monday. Where are you staying in the meantime?”

Her throat tightened as that now familiar panic began to claw at her. She hadn’t thought this through that far. She’d only let herself think of her next move. Use the phone to call a tow truck before it went dead, get to town, then she’d told herself she would figure things out from there. Now, town was closing in, she was stuck in a truck with a man she was supposed to hate and she was at a loss for how to answer that particular question.

“Uh…”

“Are you staying with Skylar?”

She softened slightly at the mention of her best friend and the fact that Cash knew that was where she’d been headed. He’d known her once, known her better than anyone, so of course he’d know that. She hated that he still knew her so well.

“Yeah, well, no…” She groaned, “I haven’t been able to reach her to let her know I’m coming. You know how she is about her phone.”

“I’ve heard.”

Her curiosity got the better of her, “You’ve heard?”

He shot a dark look at her out of the corner of his eye, “Yeah, I’ve heard. Me and Skylar, we don’t exactly sit around eating ice cream and reading each other’s diaries but I’ve heard.”

A laugh escaped her before she could pull it back and she quickly covered her mouth. Laughter. My God, how long had it been since she laughed? Too damn long, she decided, shooting a suspicious gaze at the man that had managed to pull it out of her with nothing more than a snide remark. This man had far too much power over her emotions. He always had.

He smiled softly, his eyes drifting over her before returning to the road, “You think that’s funny?”

“Yes.” She confirmed with a nod.

“She’s a good friend to you. Threatened to cut off my, what did she call it, my manhood I think it was. Hasn’t spoken to me since unless you count doubling down on her threat.”

She almost laughed again, “Like you said, she’s a good friend.”

“The girl can hold a helluva grudge. She hates me. Crosses to the other side of the street when I pass. So no, I’m not personally aware of her phone habits but yeah, I’ve heard she has a tendency to lose the thing almost daily.”

“Heard from who?”

“Colt.”

Hearing his brother’s name felt like a punch to the gut. Cash and Colt. They were a set, a pair. You couldn’t have one without the other. They even looked exactly alike. But they’d never been exactly alike, not to her, not until they’d both broken her heart. The memory of that one awful day still stung but it was a good time for a reminder of what they’d done before she softened towards Cash out of some misplaced sense of nostalgia.

“Oh...” She fidgeted, trying to figure out why Colt would know Skylar’s phone habits, “That’s weird.”

“Weird?” His eyebrows winged up as he shot her a sideways glance, “What’s that mean?”

“Doesn’t mean anything.” She sighed when his tone went defensive, “I don’t even know why I’m pretending to make small talk with you like we’re friends or something. We know the same people. That’s it.”

That darkened his frown to a scowl, “We know the same people? You’ve gotta be kidding me with that shit. Jem, we know each other in every way two people can.”

“No. We don’t. You don’t know a thing about me, not anymore.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. That’s so.” She rolled her eyes when he growled at her.

“Bullshit.”

“Bullshit?”

“Yeah. Bullshit. I know you.” He kept talking when she started to cut him off, raising his voice to speak over her, “I know you’re stubborn as hell and you always have to have the last word. I know that you never, ever cry and I know that something horrible must have happened to send you running home or you wouldn’t be here.”

She huffed out a breath, “I do not always have to have the last word.”

“Jem…”

“And you’re not exactly a genius for figuring out something horrible happened. My face looks like somebody used it for target practice.”

His eyes narrowed, “So you admit somebody hit you now?”

“Stairs. I fell down a flight of stairs.”

“I’m going to kill that fucking flight of stairs.” Cash grumbled as he tapped the brakes and they eased past the welcome sign at the edge of Old Settlers.

Jemma took a deep breath, let it out and forced herself not to prove him right by saying anything else. He didn’t know her. He couldn’t. She’d been gone five years. She wasn’t the same girl she had been when he had known her. Too much had changed, she had changed.

She touched her lip, aware that she’d bit it again and the cut had split open. She dabbed it as they rode in silence, trying to stem the bleeding. She kept her profile turned to the side but she could feel him watching her again when his eyes should have been on the road.

“Here.” He tapped her shoulder so that she would turn back to him, “Here. Use this.”

“Thanks.” She took the napkin he offered and pressed it to her mouth.

She hated that he was being so nice to her. It made it hard to hold onto her hate. And she needed her hate. It was a comforting thing that had kept her company for too long to abandon her now when she needed it most.

He wasn’t looking at her anymore and for that much, she was grateful. She pulled her gaze off him as well. She silently hated herself for noticing the way his muscles filled out the simple gray t-shirt he was wearing. She should definitely not be noticing that right now.

She forced herself to take in her surroundings as he turned off the highway and into town instead. Old Settlers had never been one of those pretty, Norman Rockwell type of towns. There was no picturesque main street with little shops and parks. It was a dusty old oil town that had been slowly trying to die for half a century but never quite succeeded in fading out of existence because there was nowhere else for the people that lived here to go.

It was a tiny map dot set just off the highway that most people didn’t even notice when they passed. There were a couple of convenience stores for the travelers that did. There were two diners, both family owned, and neither serving anything that resembled a health-food option and one shady, backwoods bar. There was the school, the bank and the post office in the center of town. A handful of small salons had popped up and were only outnumbered by the selection of churches. The small grocery store they passed was new, as was the liquor store next to it.

There was also the one auto shop on the edge of town. It was a gigantic, dusty, tin building that she had forgotten was owned by a member of the Bomar family. Not many of them were big on working, one of the numerous running jokes about the family throughout town. For the most part they were criminals or bums, but for some reason she wasn’t surprised Cash hadn’t turned out like that.

She sighed when her gaze automatically drifted back to him. She’d known him since elementary school because that was the way things worked in a town like Old Settlers. He and Colt had been impossible to ignore even then. They’d disrupted class, caused trouble, and eventually become the bad boys that every single girl crushed on in high school.