Tempting Rowan (Trace + Olivia #3) (5 page)

“Oh, okay then,” Mary smiled and patted my arm as she flicked off the light on the desk.

“I’m going to change,” I told her, already heading toward the backroom to grab my bag.

“I’ll wait for you, sweetie,” she shrugged into her winter coat.

“No, no, you go on ahead,” I assured her with a wave of my hand.

“Don’t be silly,” she pulled on gloves.

“Mary,” I stopped with a hand on the door. “I leave here by myself a lot of nights. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Don’t be stubborn now, young lady,” Mary warned.

“Alright,” I sighed, “give me a minute.”

I changed out of my clothes in record speed and met Mary at the front. She closed the large library doors behind us and locked them. The library was located in a historical part of town and first opened it’s doors in nineteen-thirteen. It was massive and one of the most beautiful buildings I’d ever seen.

Mary and I walked down the sidewalk and over to parking lot. I waved goodbye and got behind the wheel of my ancient—but reliable—Honda Civic.

I was exhausted, but my day was far from over. I still needed to stop by the local Wal-Mart to get groceries before I went home. I’d have to deposit my check first thing in the morning so I didn’t get a bill for overdrawing my account. That would majorly suck.

The parking lot was packed, even at six in the evening. I ended up having to park all the way in the back of the parking lot, which sucked since it was so cold out and my light
weight coat did little to protect me from the frigid wind and snow flurries. My long legs carried me quickly into the store. I grabbed a shopping cart and pulled the grocery list from my pocket.

My first stop was to get
frozen lasagna. I would have rather gotten the ingredients to make it homemade, but it was far too expensive. I was used to living on a budget. I swung by and grabbed a package of deli turkey before heading down the bread aisle. I scanned the prices, looking for whatever was cheapest. Ivy and Tristan had learned early on that we couldn’t afford to be picky. Whatever was the lowest price was what we ate.

I bent down and scanned the lowest shelf. “Aha,” I mumbled under my breath when I found what I wanted.

“I never knew bread was so interesting.”

The hairs on my spine stood on end.

No. Freaking. Way.

I stood slowly, the plastic bag that held the bread was clasped tightly in my hand. I turned, shaking slightly, and my eyes connected with Trent’s.

“Evening, Row,” he smiled cockily, tilting his head. He was dressed casually in jeans and a black leather jacket with a baseball cap perched on his head.

“What are you doing here?”

Shit. I’d said the exact same thing when he’d shown up at the library. I really needed to stop talking around him.

“Getting bread, obviously.” Looking at me, he reached out a
nd grabbed a random bag of bread. Several other loaves tumbled to the floor, but neither of us moved to pick them up.

“Obviously,” I whispered, at a loss for words. I looked behind me, hoping for a means of escape, but running away—again—would have been childish.

“Mind if I walk with you?” He asked, smiling crookedly.

My stomach did a somersault. Why did
he have to affect me like this even after all these years?

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Why not?” He stepped closer to me, so close that I could clearly smell his cologne.

“Because…” I faltered.

Using my hesitation to his advantage, he moved around me and began pushing the shopping cart.

“Hey!” I called after him.
He totally just stole my shopping cart, where my purse currently resided, like it was no big deal. Ugh. I wanted to punch the little cart caper.

“Come on, Row,” his lips quirked. “What do you need next?” He nodded at my list.

“Pasta noodles,” I found myself saying as I trailed behind him.

Trenton smiled and turned down the correct aisle.

I should’ve taken the cart from him and told him to get lost, but I couldn’t make myself do it or form the words. Instead, I walked beside him, gripping the shopping list so tightly in my hand that it began to tear.

“How’ve you been, Row?” He asked
stopping in the middle of the pasta aisle—not caring that he was blocking people.

I swallowed thickly. “Is that what you tracked me down to ask me?” I countered.

“Tracked you down?” He chuckled, gazing down at me with those blue eyes that sent warmth flooding through my body. “That implies I wanted to find you.”

I turned my face in the opposite direction so he couldn’t see the heat infusing my cheeks.

“Hey,” Trent stopped and grabbed my arm. “I was kidding, Row. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t,” I said too quickly.

“Liar,” he eyed me, his jaw set.

“What are you even doing here?” I asked, trying to deflect the conversation from myself. “Aren’t you off at UVA?”

“It’s Thanksgiving break,” he smirked.

“Oh.” How had I been completely oblivious to the fact that Thanksgiving was this week? I had no idea what I was going to do for the kids…I needed to do
something
. Surely I could find a cheap turkey? Or maybe Mary would help me out? She loved the kids, and while she didn’t know the details of my home life, she knew it wasn’t the greatest.

“Row? Rowan?”

“What?” I shook my head, clearing my thoughts.

“Where’d you go?” He asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You were completely lost in your thoughts. You couldn’t even hear me,” he frowned.

“I have a lot to think about,” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared down at my worn shoes.

Trent shook his head and pushed the shopping cart forward. “What kind of pasta do you need?” He asked, changing the subject, and I was incredibly thankful.
Trent was good like that. He pushed me more than I liked, but he always knew when to back off. Maybe that’s what scared me the most about Trenton. He knew me better than I knew myself.

“Whatever is cheapest,” I muttered under my breath. I knew Trent had never had to live on a budget. His family was worth billions—they certainly didn’t act
like uppity rich people though so you had to give them credit there. In fact, they were the nicest people I’d ever met—even if I’d only met them briefly years ago. Years. Funny, it felt like a lifetime.

Trenton surprised me by reaching for the
Wal-Mart brand spaghetti noodles and placing it in the cart.

We continued through the store
, shopping for groceries together. I’d read something off the list and Trent would twist the cart in whatever direction we needed to go. I hated to admit it, but despite the fact that we barely spoke, I was really enjoying his company.

“So,” I started, nervously fiddling with the buttons on my jacket, “what are you doing here? This isn’t exactly the most glamorous place.” I swirled my finger in the air for emphasis.

“I needed some ferret food,” he shrugged, pushing the cart forward and reaching up to push the brim of the baseball cap out of his eyes.

“Ferret food?” I questioned in disbelief.

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I have a ferret and he has to eat.”

“Do they even sell ferret food here? And there’s a Pet-Smart right down the road, why wouldn’t you go there?”

“So many questions, Row,” he sighed, grabbing a container of orange juice and heading for the eggs. “Yes, they have ferret food here. I don’t go to Pet-Smart because if I did that, then I’d want to bring home every furry creature I saw while I was there.”

“You seriously have a ferret?” I continued to drill him.

“Yes, I seriously have a ferret. His name is Bartholomew and he’s really cute. You should come over and play with him sometime. He needs friends,” Trent grinned at me. “How are these?” He held up a carton of eggs.

“Those are great,” I answered his question. “You know, I could see you with a snake or a lizard, but not a ferret.”

Trent shuddered. “Don’t tell anyone, because it’ll ruin my street cred, but I hate reptiles. I’m not saying I’m going to go out and kill a snake because I hate them, I’m all for saving any little creature, I just don’t want one living in my house.”

I cracked a smile at that. “You’re an interesting guy, Trenton.”

He gazed down at me, studying my features. I found myself squirming at the intrusive stare. “Why did you stop talking to me?”

Shit.

I brushed past him and grabbed the handle of the shopping cart. I walked as fast as my legs could carry me, but Trent jogged after me.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he reached out, bringing the cart to a halt. “You’re not getting away that easily. You don’t want to answer the question? Fine,” he shrugged like it was no big deal, “but I’m not going anywhere.”

“Of course you’re not,” I grumbled under my breath. Trent would stick around and fester under my skin. He’d find a way into my heart, and when he did I’d have to tell him all my secrets. And when he found out what I had done…he’d hate me, and I wouldn’t blame him.

“I’m a Wentworth,” he bumped me aside with his hip and took over with the shopping cart, “and we’re incredibly stubborn, so get used to it.”

“Believe me, I’m well acquainted with your stubbornness,” I grumbled under my breath.

Trent glanced at me over his shoulder, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. Uh-oh. What had I said?
“I like that you’re admitting just how well you know me. This might not be as difficult as I thought.”

“What might not be difficult?” I ground my teeth together. I swear, only Trent seemed to know what buttons to push to piss me off.

“Getting you to see that we’re perfect for each other.” He pushed the cart forward, and I had to force my gaze to the ground so that I didn’t study the way his shoulders flexed beneath his leather jacket.

“We are
not
perfect for each other,” I said vehemently. “So stop wasting your time.”

“It’s okay to fight what we have, Rowan
. I like your spunkiness,” he winked.

Ugh.

“Why now?” I asked. After what we did on the school camping trip, I’d avoided Trent. Yeah, he’d tried to pursue me, but eventually he gave up and moved on. When we returned for our junior year of high school we’d both changed a lot, and he’d left me alone. But for the last year or so, whenever Trent was home from college, he was constantly popping up when I least expected him. It was quite a talent he had.

“Now is our time
. We weren’t meant to be together back in high school, but now we’re both older and ready.” He stopped in the middle aisle and reached out to caress my cheek. I hated how good it felt to be touched by him. I didn’t want to admit it, but I had missed him.

“Trent…” I couldn’t seem to make myself say the words to tell him he was wrong. Being with Trent had always been effortless. He had been my best friend, and I knew if I let him he’d easily step back into that
role…as well as lover…but I wasn’t sure I could let him. We’d both end up broken in the end. “I—never mind.”

He grinned crookedly. “I’m so happy you see things my way.”

“Whatever,” I rolled my eyes. Arguing with Trent was futile.

“What’s left on the list?” He nodded at the piece of paper still clenched in my fist.

I unclasped my hand and looked down at the wrinkled paper. I could barely read my own handwriting I’d crinkled it so much.

“I need to get coats for Ivy and Tristan,” I mumbled.

Trent raised a brow.

“My siblings,” I muttered, casting my eyes to the ground.

“Yeah, I remember Ivy. But Tristan?” He questioned.

I kicked the toe of my worn shoe against the linoleum tile floors. “Yeah, he’s my brother. He’s only five. Apparently my mom has never heard of condoms or birth control,” my cheeks colored.

“Huh,” he clucked his tongue. “So, let me guess, you’re the one taking care of them?”

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner,” I said in a flat voice. I’d confessed years ago to Trent that my mom was an alcoholic. I wasn’t sure if he knew how bad she was though—that she
had basically been comatose since Tristan was born and that when she was awake she was violent.

“God, Row, you’re not their mom. You have school, and a job…how do you do it?” He looked at me like he was really seeing me for the first time.

“You do what you have to do to survive. My mom doesn’t take care of them, so I do.”

His stare was penetrating and I found myself squirming from the scrutiny.

He shook his head and the muscle in his jaw ticked, but he chose not to say anything.

He pushed the cart into the kid’s clothing section and began scanning racks of coats. “How about this one?” He held up a blue coat with green dinosaurs on it.

I smiled at his effort. “Tristan likes dinosaurs, it’s perfect.”