Beautifully Decadent (Beautifully Damaged Book 3) (19 page)

“In some sense it’s been fucking incredible, as you can imagine. I have very few restrictions and outside of my parole office, I’m in charge of my life again. But in some ways it’s been difficult. You get used to life a certain way: told what to do, when and for how long, and as confining as that is, you get used to it. On the outside, you have to find your own way; no one is there to tell you what, when and how long. Not to mention you’re battling not just your own demons—like the insecurities that stem from your own doubts as to your ability to cope with life on the outside—but the prejudices of people who would prefer if you’d stayed behind bars. So even breathing air as a free man—a fucking fantastic thing—readjusting to the world when you have the stigma of being an ex-con is not an easy adjustment.”

My heart went out to him because I could imagine the difficulties, seeing how hard it had been for him to accept my invitation, but before I could comment he asked, “You mentioned Rafe was making a delivery, his furniture?”

“Yeah, have you seen his work?”

“No.” There was regret threaded through that reply.

“He made the tables in the living room and he restored this carriage house and the main house. There are pictures in the front room that show the before for this place.”

Liam walked to the pictures and studied them before taking in the space now. “He did this work by himself?”

“Yeah. He gave me the tour when I first moved in, explained how he’d been at it for years, but the results are so worth the effort. Wait until you see the main house.”

“I look forward to Rafe showing me. How long have you lived here?”

“A little over a month.”

He actually exhaled, like in relief. “I’m happy to hear that.”

“Why?”

“Because if you’d been here longer and my son hasn’t made his move, he clearly has something wrong with him.”

“He has a girlfriend.”

Liam had a thought on that and whether he intended to share or not, I’d never know because the timer on the oven went off. “Pie’s done.”

An hour later, Rafe still hadn’t returned and I had the sense that Liam didn’t want to over-stay his welcome. I walked with him to the front gates. “Thank you. I haven’t eaten something that incredible in far too long.”

“I enjoyed the company. I’ll let Rafe know you stopped by.”

He started down the drive, but stopped and looked back at me. “Is he happy?”

The genuine interest it seemed Liam had for the answer hit me hard because my dad had never once asked that question of Nat or me. “I don’t know him all that well, but I think so. Sometimes he seems a bit lonely.”

He nodded his head in acknowledgment of my words yet his thoughts were his own and then he said, “Thanks for keeping me company.”

It was Liam who looked lonely now, his words coming back to me about the challenges of fitting back into society. All that time waiting to be free and then dropped in a world where many wanted you back behind bars. I didn’t know him, but seeing the pride he obviously felt for his son and his concern over Rafe’s happiness had the next words tumbling out. “Anytime. I mean that. You’re welcome to visit me whenever you want.”

“I’d like that.”

“Do you have a cell?”

He handed me his cell that he’d taken from his pocket. “I still haven’t gotten used to this. When I went away, cell phones were huge with antennas. These look like something out of
Star Trek
.”

“And every year they get smaller but are capable of doing more.”

“I can’t help but think of
Terminator
and the danger of too much automation—all your info just floating around in cyberspace. You can do electronic bill pay, right from your checking account. It’s a little too much for me.”

“I feel the same. I still use actual checks.” I punched my number into his phone. “Whenever you get a hankering for something sweet, call me.”

Reaching for his phone, his expression changed and his next words sounded almost dire. “Next time you see a stranger at the gate, don’t engage them. Keep driving and call Rafe. Promise me, Avery.”

A chill worked down my spine because the warning came out of left field. “Okay, I promise.”

And then he strolled away while I stood with Loki and watched until I couldn’t see him anymore.

“I agree with you, Loki, orange and chocolate are wonderful together, but I want something that’s not cake.”

Loki and I were lying, head-to-head, on the sofa while I worked out some ideas for new recipes. Since he seemed to respond when I included him in my thinking, I did it often. He liked me, always waiting at the front door for me to let him in, greeting me warmly when I came for him on the days I got home before Rafe. Loki and I had been for a walk earlier, after Liam had departed, and having exhausted Loki’s daily limit of exercise we lounged about.

“I’m toying with the idea of a chocolate tray, custom-made chocolates. Unique pairings, maybe even offering wine to complement the flavors.”

The knock at the door had my head peeking up over the sofa back to see Rafe filling the doorway. There was the strangest expression on his face. “Sorry to interrupt, but have you seen Loki?” Even his tone seemed off. I wondered if he had had a fight with Melody.

“Yeah, he’s right here. Come in.”

The screen door swung close as Rafe entered the living room, a space that seemed so much smaller with him in it. “You were just talking to Loki?”

I couldn’t tell if he was incredulous or humored by the thought of Loki and me engaging in conversation. “Yeah. He never answers though. We were tossing around dessert ideas.”

As I watched, the tension that had tightened his shoulders seemed to roll right off him, his demeanor changing from guarded to relaxed. I couldn’t help feeling slightly giddy because I had the distinct impression he thought I had a man over and even more unbelievable, he didn’t appear to like that idea in the least. And
I
liked that he didn’t like it.

“We?” There was definitely humor in that one word.

“You’ve never chatted with him?”

“No, I talk to him all the time, I’m just surprised you are.”

“Why?”

He looked as if he was going to answer, but held back.

“You missed your dad.”

Surprise flashed over his face. “What?”

“He was here earlier to see you. He waited for a bit, I gave him pie, but he had to go so…”

“He was here?”

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, no I’m just sorry I missed him.”

“He was lovely and very interested in you, if you were happy. He loves what you’ve done with the carriage house and is eager for the tour of the main house.”

I was surprised by the look that swept his face at my words; he looked conflicted. “Are you okay, Rafe?”

“It’s just weird. It’s been so long. I kind of thought I outgrew wanting approval from my dad, but I guess not.”

“He said something else before he left. He told me the next time I see a stranger at the gate I shouldn’t engage him and call you. Any idea why he’d say that?”

Rafe’s demeanor changed instantly—fun-loving chased away by wary. “That was another reason why I stopped by. I wanted to mention that I’ve recently learned there are people interested in Dad and his part in the robbery.”

I wasn’t sure what I felt more, concerned or confused. Was that why he had changed the codes on the gates and main house? “It seems odd that there would still be interest so many years later.”

“Our thoughts exactly.”

“You mentioned before that the people who did the job with your dad were killed.”

“Yeah, a few days after the robbery. The case was never closed.” He stepped closer to me, but it was the concern coming off him, for me, that I liked…a lot. “Are you worried?”

“I’m not sure because whatever this is, someone was willing to kill for it. Maybe there’s reason to worry.”

Dangerous was how he looked in response. Fierce. “You’re safe here, but if you want me to help you find another place to—”

I didn’t let him finish that sentence; the thought of leaving was like taking a kick to the gut. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He seemed to like the idea of me leaving about as well as me since the scowl lifted from his expression at my insistence on staying. Had I been alone, I’d be doing that booty wiggle he liked so much.

“Besides, this place is like Fort Knox and we’ve got this incredible guard dog.”

And Loki, right on cue, snored loud and long.

Rafe chuckled. “Yep, he’s fierce.”

I was still grinning when I reached my workshop, Avery the cause. I’d never met anyone like her. That day in her bathroom was burned onto my brain. A robe, a thin layer of cotton had separated all of her from me. It took will to keep my hands at my sides and not reach for her, pushing the fabric off her shoulders and tasting her. God, I wanted her taste on my tongue. But what changed simple lust and craving into something a whole hell of a lot more was her compassion. Even knowing where Dad had spent the past twenty-five years, she hadn’t turned him away; she had made him feel at home. I was coming to learn there were many facets that made up Avery Collins and I liked every single one. And even knowing the attraction was mutual—the air damn near sizzled when we were together—getting involved with my tenant seemed like a really bad idea, but it was getting harder and harder for me to convince myself of that.

Moving deeper into the barn, to where I had a small weight room setup, I pulled off my tee and started working the punching bag that hung from one of the rafters. Dad’s warning to Avery concerned me, had someone approached him? The case file on the robbery was pretty vague because to the police it was exactly what it appeared to be, a robbery gone wrong. If Dad was right though and the robbery had been used to cover up the real crime, what or who had been the target? We needed to find out how Jeremy Paddington and his security box tied into all of this.

The knock on the barn door pulled me from my thoughts. Twisting my neck, Avery stood about twenty feet from me. She looked as if she was rooted to the floor. Her eyes were moving down my body, her thorough inspection had my dick growing hard.

“I’m sorry. I just…” she gestured to the plate she held. “…I was making lunch and thought you might like some. I’ll leave it over there.”