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It was difficult to see my mother through the screen, but she waited a beat before saying, “Come on in, Carl is here for dinner.”
Giggling, we huddled together to grab our things and then headed inside.
Carl was already seated at the table, his hulking form folded into one of our small kitchen chairs.
“Hey, Car-Car, how are you?” I sat down next to him and expected him to lean over and hug me, but he just sat still as stone, staring off toward the living room.
“I’m headed home. See you later, Rae!” Nora called before exiting the house, her face still crimson from my discovery of her secret wedding board. I smiled, thinking of what I’d seen.
“What’s that smile for?” Carl suddenly asked, brisk and cold.
Put off by his tone, I almost didn’t answer, but his eyes were warm and his body language relaxed.
“Just an inside joke.”
He nodded, while his brows crowded his forehead. Mom and Dad were still talking by the sink about the diner, unaware of our conversation.
Carl hesitated, eyeing them like I had, then he leaned closer. “I just thought maybe it was from that Davis kid…he was in today asking questions.” Carl shook his head, like he was banishing the memory, but now my blood was heated.
“What was he asking?” My voice was raspier than I intended, but all things Davis related still felt like a cord pulled taut in my belly. It felt familiar, like I owned a piece of him.
Carl glanced over toward the sink briefly then back at the empty plate in front of him.
“Just about some girl…” His gray eyes bounced up and landed on me hard. “Just stay away from him, kiddo. He’s bad news.”
I nodded absently, mentally grappling with the words he’d said.
Some girl.
He was asking about a girl?
That cut deeper than I wanted to admit. I was purely anti Davis, especially after going through my boxes, but there was still a poisoned well inside my heart where Davis existed, and hearing that he was asking about another girl seemed to be as painful as taking a pull from those waters.
My stomach tilted.
Images of that night in the library played over and over in my head, forcing me to remember how frivolous Davis was with women. I was nothing to him—always had been, always would be.
When chicken pot pie hit my plate, I nearly doubled over. I ended up pushing the food around my plate for twenty minutes before excusing myself. Which did nothing but remind me that I was a fool, and there would never be anything attached to Davis Brenton but pain.
17
DAVIS
WatchingRaelyn Jackson was like looking at the most beautiful piece of art, and yeah, that was cheesy as fuck, but it was also true. She was stunning, with the way the sun hit her dark hair, and the way her head flew back when she laughed…that laugh…it was like a song created just for me. Something that could rival the serene sounds of nature, of my mountain. I had yet to find anyone who had the ability to sway me from the mountain.
Yet, here I was, watching Rae while she was at lunch with some girl who had chocolate brown corkscrew curls, and the two guys sitting next to them. I was probably overreacting, but it almost looked like they were on a double date or some shit.
Sitting in my truck with my window down, sunglasses perched on my nose, allowed me to watch her from the street without being noticed. However, this feeling coming alive inside my chest was like a fire, burning hotter than anything I had ever felt. It burned for me to walk over to their table and pluck her away from everyone at it. She’d scream and shriek, and then I’d have to throw her over my shoulder and explain that she was mine, and no one else would ever be able to hear that laugh or see those plump, pink lips wrap around a straw, or get near that silky soft skin.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
I had never felt this way for anyone. Ever.
My mountain had been enough for me, all these years. Yet, now, I craved more. I wanted more.But only with her.
I watched as the guy nearest to Rae leaned over, whispering something in her ear. He had to be a stranger—someone she’d just met tonight—because she kept leaning closer to her friend after the fuckface crowded her. He had nicely styled hair, swept to one side, and he wore tailored peach-colored pants with a white collared shirt. He looked exactly like the kind of guy I assumed she’d be with. The rage that simmered in my veins was deadly, especially as this idiot draped his arm across the back of her chair.
It would be so easy to open my door and be up and out of my truck within seconds, crossing the space without a thought of what I was about to do. But, it wasn’t like Rae would choose to go with me. In any given scenario, she would side with the stranger and tell people I was harassing her. I’d go to jail because I’d not only punch the asshole who touched her, but I’d end up kidnapping Rae, or kissing her until she listened.
