After the Rain (The Callahans) (12 page)

Kylie’s heart began to pound. This wasn’t happening. There was no way he would bring a woman back here to stay with him. Not when he knew she was up at the house—unless he wasn’t taking things as seriously as she was.

She narrowed her gaze, attentively watching the action unfold in the Blazer.

Trey shut his eyes and worked as hard as he could to tune out Shayna’s voice. He’d been listening to her sob story for the past hour and a half, on the ride back from Goodacre. He’d seen the bruises on her normally pretty face. It was obvious she’d been hit. By whom, he wasn’t sure. Her story was that the husband, Matt, did it. Trey remembered Matt Clyde. The bastard was tall and brawny with a receding hairline. The mention of the guy pissed him off for several moments. Matt had been another of Shayna’s indiscretions during their marriage. All the same, she had nowhere to go. Her two kids—one two-year-old and one four-year-old—were sleeping in the backseat, also homeless. He’d had no choice but to bring them here.

“I just need somewhere to crash until I can talk to Mama and Papa.”

“When’s that?” he finally asked.

“Just give me a day or so. The kids have been through a lot,” she said sadly, looking over her shoulder and into the backseat. “We left early yesterday morning and hopped one bus to the next. It’s been a long haul for them. They’re scared.”

He was thoughtful, his head propped against his hand as he leaned against the door. “Is this guy armed?”

She didn’t answer right away. “He doesn’t have a gun. Not only that, he doesn’t know where I’ve gone.”

“It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out you have no one but your parents to turn to. And it takes even less time to get a gun.”

She frowned at that. “I don’t think so. He’s not the type to carry a weapon.”

“Don’t be naïve. If he is the type to hit you and threaten to kill you, he is the type to carry a gun. “She could be so half-witted sometimes. He’d almost forgotten how half-witted.
Almost.
“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, Trey,” she said, tearfully, her fingers reaching up to swipe at the wetness on her face. “That’s why I called you.”

“I can’t do anything for you.”

“Can’t, or won’t.”

He sighed. “What do you want me to do, Shayna?”

“He’s going to kill me, Trey. He told me so. I had to sneak out while he was at work.”

“Why?”

“Why, what?” she sniffled.

“Why does he want to kill you?”

She slowly shrugged her shoulders and immediately he knew the answer; she had cheated.

He shook his head in disgust. “Picked the wrong guy to mess with, didn’t you?”

“It was a one-time thing. Even if I did do something wrong, I can’t have my kids in danger.”

“They’re his kids too,” he reminded her. “And as of yesterday morning, you are a kidnapper.”

She flinched but didn’t say anything.

“Look, you can stay here for the night. I’ll bunk in the house. You’ll have to go see your parents tomorrow. I can’t do anything else for you.” He started to get out of the Blazer.

“You don’t have to bunk at the house, Trey. I’m not kicking you out of your own digs.”

He didn’t look at her. “I have somewhere else to stay. Don’t worry about it.”

“And someone else to stay with?” she asked, solemnly, stepping from the vehicle.

He tensed and then shot her a look over the top of the Blazer. “Yeah, and someone else to stay with. Do you need help with the kids?” He thought he saw a look of regret cross her features, but quickly, it disappeared.

“I can handle them.”

The chivalry in him made him stick around long enough to get the kids settled in bed and make sure the front door was locked when he left. Then he headed for the main house where Dusty was sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of milk in front of him. Trey had called his brother earlier and let him know what was going on.

“She staying here?”

“For now,” Trey said, tossing his coat on the hanger behind the door. “She’s messed up. He hit her good.”

“He going to come after her?”

Trey was thoughtful. “Maybe—probably. She has his kids and she cheated on him.”

Dusty swore. “So she called you to bail her out?”

Trey shrugged, grabbing a beer from the refrigerator. “Who else is she going to turn to? She’s pissed everyone else in her life off.”

“Do I need to remind you that she screwed you over too?”

“No, you don’t.” Trey leaned against the counter. “How mad is she?”

“Faye or Kylie?”

“Faye is always mad. I meant Kylie.”

“You should have called her.”

“And told her what? That my ex-wife called and I needed to go pick her and her kids up so I could bring them back to stay in my house?”

Dusty frowned but didn’t comment.

Trey took a good draw on the beer bottle. “I couldn’t just turn my back on her. The cop in me wouldn’t allow it.”

“Don’t screw this up, bro. Kylie is a nice girl. She’s been hurt before.”

“I know.” Trey grimaced. “Nothing’s changed between us. I have no feeling other than pity for Shayna. It’s kind of sad, really. She’s so clueless and her kids will suffer for that.”

“It’s not your problem.” Dusty stated the obvious.

“As of tomorrow, I won’t have to deal with it. I told her she needs to go talk to her parents at the res.”

“They probably won’t open their arms. Lena and Jacob are proud people. She really hurt them by what she did to you.”

“I can talk to them. It’s their responsibility to help her. Not mine.”

“So go tell Kylie that.” Dusty stood. “I’ll bet she’s still up.”

Trey thought that over as his brother left the room. It was two in the morning. Most likely, she’d given up on him hours earlier and turned in. Either that or she was too pissed to sleep. He didn’t know which idea made him feel worse. He set his empty beer bottle on the counter and took the stairs slowly. When he reached the top, he stared at her door, momentarily. Would she be glad to see him? Probably not. All the same, he did owe her an explanation. He tapped lightly, almost hoping she was sleeping. It would probably be in his best interest to think over exactly how to handle things and approach her in the morning. But she was awake. The door opened a crack and her blue eyes peered at him, curiously.

“Did I wake you up?” he whispered.

Shaking her head, she opened the door wider. He could see she was wearing some pajamas—a short and tank set. It was appealing, he decided. He liked the simple things she wore. He liked it much better than the designer crap Shayna piled on.

“I’m sorry I stood you up tonight.”

Her expression softened. “It’s okay. I know you’re busy.”

“Yeah, well…” He frowned. “Can I come in or do you want to go downstairs? I don’t want to wake Faye.”

She hesitated, then opened the door the rest of the way and allowed him to come inside. He shut the door behind him and folded his arms over his chest as he looked at her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her expression blank. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea of sitting close to her just yet. She was radiating distance. Instead, he leaned against the wall a few feet away.

“My ex-wife called earlier, in trouble. I had to help her out. Her husband found out she cheated on him and beat her up pretty good. Then he threatened to kill her.” He paused, waiting for her to say something. When she didn’t, he continued. “I know I got upset with you for talking to that creep you used to date, so maybe you’re mad at me now, but I couldn’t turn my back on her. She’s got small kids with her.”

“Is she in your house?”

“She is,” he confirmed.

She didn’t say anything after that.

“She’s going to see her parents tomorrow. I told her she has to go.”

“Why did she call you? Is she trying—”

“We’re not getting back together, Kylie. It’s been nearly six years. I promise you that.”

“Then why did she turn to you? She hurt you before.”

He shrugged. “You have to know Shayna. Honestly, we’ve known each other our whole lives. Before we dated, we ran around with the same crowd. She has pissed a lot of people off over the years and I’m the only one she knew wouldn’t turn her away.”

“Because you still care about her?”

He snorted at that. “No, baby. Because I’m a cop.”

“So why didn’t you call me?”

Good question. He frowned. “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking, I guess. And it was awkward. I didn’t know what to say.”

She finally met his gaze. “What you just said would have been enough.” She stood and walked over to the window, staring out into the darkness. “Is she back here for good?”

“I don’t know.” He walked over and stood behind her. “Does it matter?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she leaned back against him. He lifted his arms and pulled her against his chest. “It’s you I’m with, Montana. I’m not interested in anyone but you.”

She let her hands cover his and they stood like that for a while.

“So can I stay in here with you tonight? I’m sort of homeless.” He waited for her to stiffen in his arms, but she didn’t. Instead she turned around, her nose bumping against his chest.

“Just to sleep?”

“Yeah, baby. Just to sleep.”

“Faye might get mad.”

He grinned at that. “Faye’s always mad.”

Now it was her turn to smile. “Okay, I guess you have a point.” She stepped away from him and reached for the lamp next to the bed. “You don’t have pajamas.”

“I have a T-shirt on and boxers. Is that enough for you?”

He waited while she thought that over.

“What kind of boxers?”

“What do you mean, what kind?”

“Do they have designs on them?”

His gaze narrowed. “Like trains or something? Heck, I don’t know. I don’t remember what I put on this morning.”

“Only a man says something like that.”

“That’s probably true. You want to tell me what your underwear looks like? Or you could just show me.” He gave her a mischievous grin.

“You wish.” She climbed into bed and waited while he undid his belt buckle and went to work removing his jeans. It turned out he had beer bottles on his boxers.

“Faye gave them to me for Christmas last year,” he said, sheepishly.

She laughed at that. “She sent me a pair just like them. I sleep in them sometimes.”

That figured. He walked over and climbed into bed next to her, though he was careful to give her some space. Once the light was out, they lay there, both quiet. Finally, she broke the silence.

“Would it bother you if I got closer to you?”

Probably
. “No,” he said anyway.

She scooted against him, her back against his chest. It seemed natural to wrap his arms around her. It almost felt as though they had laid like this a hundred times, rather than never before.

“Trey?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you really mean it when you said you’d wait as long as it takes?”

He supposed the events of the evening had probably made her doubt him. All the same, he was a little disappointed. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

“Maybe I’ll be ready soon. I mean I think I will.”

He lifted a hand and brushed some hair back from her face. “I’ll be here waiting.”

14

The early morning sun filtered through the slits in the curtains and forced Kylie awake. Disoriented at first, she stiffened. She was in her bed, in the Callahan house, but she wasn’t alone. Then she recalled the events of the night before. Trey was with her in her bed. She could hear him breathing softly behind her, though she was almost afraid to turn around. When they had gone to sleep the night before, his arms had been around her. She had fallen asleep smelling his scent, feeling his warmth. And she’d liked it. It hadn’t scared her, it had made her feel all sorts of strange feelings. Feelings she wasn’t sure what to do about. Feelings that Paul had never come close to bringing out in her.

She turned her head and looked behind her. He was lying on his stomach, his arms stretched out above him as he slept. There was something about the way he looked when he was deep in slumber. The lines that normally worried his forehead were evaporated. His dark black lashes seemed longer against his tanned skin. Lord, he was beautiful. He seemed so far from her league.

She carefully turned over and watched him a little longer. How could a man like him want to be with a woman like her? It just didn’t seem possible.

But it was. He had said so the night before. He would wait as long as it took.

She thought that over. She’d never really wanted to touch a man before but she wanted to touch him—to run her fingers over that soft, black hair. She wanted to nuzzle her nose against his neck and feel those arms wrap around her again. But could she go through with it? She’d tried with Paul only a few times and each time she’d had an anxiety attack. He had given up and turned to someone else. What if Trey did the same thing?

Trey wasn’t Paul, or any of the other men she’d dated over the years. He was Trey and he was different, she told herself.

“Don’t look at me like that, Montana.”

His voice startled her. Their eyes met. His were sleepy and relaxed. She found herself smiling. “Like what?”

He let out a yawn and turned onto his back, his eyes still locked with hers. “Like….
that
.”

Was she that obvious?

He turned onto his side, his fingers reaching up to touch her face softly. “So did you sleep well?”

“I did,” she said, leaning into his touch. She couldn’t help herself.

“Me, too.” He leaned forward and rubbed his nose lightly against hers. “I could get used to this. You smell good.” His mouth brushed her lips lightly, before sliding down her chin to her neck.

“I need a shower,” she argued, but she didn’t stop him. His lips felt delicious against the sensitive skin of her bare shoulder. “Trey?”

“Yeah, baby.”

She shut her eyes at the feel of his tongue against her skin. Dear God, what was happening to her? She was melting. Instead of speaking, she reached over and wrapped her arms around his neck, coaxing his head up and back to her mouth. Immediately, the kiss grew urgent, tongues moving between teeth and meeting in a frenzy. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her tighter against him. She rolled over on top of him, with his help, and he pulled her head down for more. Their kisses grew more intense. Almost panting, she pulled back a little. His hand in her hair, he stilled and looked up at her, his expression worried.