Filed to story: Love on the Sidelines (Natalie & Karl)
“You could have come home.”
His jaw tightened. “No I couldn’t. I was still Karl Hayes, the guy who’d shot his father, the guy from the wrong side of town. I was still broke, still a nobody.” He glanced at me again. “I promised you once that I’d make you proud of me someday, that I’d be somebody. I couldn’t come home until I’d succeeded.”
“And now you have?”
The smile playing around his lips was grim. “Well, I’m not broke anymore. The company paid well, and they gave large bonuses to get you to stay longer than a year.
Since they also furnished housing, there wasn’t much expense. I took what I saved and invested it. Maybe I’m not up to the Morgan’s standards of rich, but I’ve got enough to live comfortably the rest of my life. So yes, I’d say I’ve at least partly succeeded. The rest of my goals are still up in the air.”
I studied his profile. “Did you really think that’s what I wanted? That I cared if you were rich or not?”
He pulled the car to a stop in the driveway and shut off the motor. His voice was quiet in the silence. “No, I knew it didn’t matter to you. But it mattered to me, Natalie. I couldn’t stand the thought of you living in some dingy apartment, slaving away at a job you hated to help support us. It would have destroyed me. There was so much I wanted to give you, so much you deserved…” His voice trailed off, and I realized his hand was fisted on the steering wheel. He took a deep, shaky breath and pushed the door open abruptly. “Let’s go look at the house.”
Confused, I followed him across the grassy area that stretched under the trees between the barn and his house. It was almost as though he knew where the conversation was leading and wanted to stop me before I could ask the questions. A spark of anger curled inside me. I had a right to know, damn it. If he loved me as much as he said he did, then I deserved to know why he’d nearly destroyed me.
Strange, but even after everything I’d been through, I never doubted for an instant that he’d tell me the truth. He might refuse to talk about something, but lying was as foreign to Karl’s nature as a sandstorm was to a rainforest. Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten that.
I remembered it now and my anger faded ashehelpedmestepupontothe foundation of the house, a distracted expression on his face. “What color shingles do you think I should get?”
In the last rays of the sun, I gaped at him. “That’s what you wanted my advice on?
Shingles?”
The thoughtful look faded from his eyes, and he grinned. “Among other things.” I crossed my arms over my chest and gazed up at him. Okay, if he wanted to play games, I’d go along with him for now. But we both knew this subject wasn’t over.
“What kind of exterior were you planning?”
“Vinyl siding.”
“Color?”
“What color would you use?”
“It’s your house, Karl.”
Even in the shadows cast by the upper floor, I saw his gray eyes go molten. “No, it’s our house.”
It felt like my insides were melting into a puddle on the cold concrete at my feet.
“White,” I whispered. “Make the outside white.” I don’t know who moved first, or even if it mattered. I only know that I suddenly found myself in his arms, his mouth moving hungrily on mine. We were pressed together so tightly I could feel every inch of his hard body against me, feel the heat radiating from his skin. And nothing in my life had ever felt so right before. For that brief time, we weren’t two people separated by fifteen years and a troubled past. We were one body, one soul that had been reunited across a seemingly unbridgeable chasm.
When it ended, we were both shaking, both gasping for air. But instead of releasing me, his arms tightened until they were almost painful and he buried his face in my hair.
“God, I can’t lose you again.” His whisper was harsh, filled with pain. “Not now, when I’ve waited so long to hold you. I think it would kill me. But I’m so damn scared you’ll hate me when you find out the truth.”
I rested my head against his chest, eyes closed. “And when will that be?”
“Soon. Too damn soon.”
“But not tonight?”
He hesitated and I could feel the tension in his body. “No, not tonight. I know I don’t have the right, but I’m asking you to trust me a little longer.” I leaned back and looked into his eyes for a second, then nodded. “Show me the rest of the house.”
And so, for the next hour, we pretended to be nothing more than two people in love who were busily planning the home they would build together. We held hands, we laughed, and we argued over the layout of the kitchen. We discussed color schemes, shingles, and floor covering. We couldn’t stop touching, or looking at each other, trying to memorize this forbidden moment.
When it was time to part, both of us were reluctant for the magic to end. We wound up necking like teenagers, standing in the front part of the barn after he walked me home, exchanging long, slow, drugging kisses that lasted forever, drove us both to the edge of our endurance, and left our bodies aching.
And then I stood in the open doorway and watched him drive away, unaware that this blissful peace would last only a few more days. Unaware that when I finally did learn the truth, the rage that erupted inside me would destroy the man I still loved with all my heart.
I’d only been to the Roadhouse twice before, and both times were with Hugh. It had bored me out of my skull, sitting at a table with nothing to do except listen to Hugh joke and carry on with his friends. The music had been too loud, and the smoke stung my nose until I could barely breathe. I’d hated every minute of it.
But tonight felt different. The huge, barn-like building pulsed with excitement and laughter, shimmied to the rhythm of guitars, electric keyboard and drums that I could feel pounding from my chest to my toes. Anticipation shivered through me as I paused inside the door and scanned the dimly lit interior, looking for Jenna. At midnight tonight, I would officially be a free woman, a Cinderella in reverse, and I was more than ready.
The boot-stomping, swaying bodies on the dance floor blocked my view of the tables and any hope of spotting Jenna. Gingerly, I eased my way to the edge of the shiny wooden floor, trying not to get stepped on. I’d barely set out when Clifton Logan, one of my customers, grabbed me, let out a whoop, and two-stepped me effortlessly through the dancing mob.
Laughing, I thanked him for his gallant assistance. He swept off his ball cap and bowed. “Always my pleasure to help a damsel in distress. You looking for Jenna?”
“Yes. Have you seen her?”