Never Stopped Loving You (3 page)

No. He hadn’t been friends with Kara since he gently told her they weren’t working out. Neither had Whitney. “This is never going to work.”

“It’ll work fine when you get over yourself and realize you’re not The Awesomist.”

A groan rumbled through him and he dropped in a chair. “I don’t think I’m
The Awesomist
, whatever that is. Kara is the one with the problem.” Because it sure as hell wasn’t him. Was he the one who changed everything after they broke up? No.

He raked his hands through his hair. He wasn’t going to explain to his sister he’d been hard as hell on every date with Kara but she didn’t feel the same. That when he’d pulled her in close she’d go stiffer than a brick. That if he kissed her, she quickly laughed with unmistakable nerves while pulling out of his arms. It was like being whipped every damn time and he couldn’t stomach it anymore. “You should have ran this by me first.”

Her hands fisted. “I didn’t think you’d agree.”

She was right about that. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to be here.”

“Too bad. Contracts are signed. It’s been a long time. I know she changed back then, but I’m confident she’s different now.”

His jaw hardened. “She changed” put it lightly. Sweet little Kara Duncan became the joke of the town with John. There wasn’t one place he could recall that she didn’t hook up with John. Not one party she didn’t attend with him. Not one piece of clothing that could be considered decent. Each time, seeing her flushed, her eyes heavy as she stared into another man’s face with another man’s hands on her ass, ripped his insides apart. Indigestion ripped through his gut over the memories. “I’m glad we’re staking our business reputation on your confidence.”

Whitney only shook her head. “Did y’all find a way to work it out today?”

He crossed his ankle over his knee trying to get comfortable. Saying these words would never be comfortable. “She wants to forget and move on.”

“And you?”

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Not that he ever did. Not when it came to Kara. He was always left wanting more. “So we’re going to forget and move on. Since when is the business not doing well?”

One of Wade’s ancestors was considered the Henry Ford of the tractor world. A few generations down the road and they sold the business for a pretty penny, but Wade, like his dad, invented new accessories to make farming more efficient. All those ideas were tested at Chester Farms before being sent out to their commercial farms in different parts of the country. Then sold to the highest bidder out of the company. Right now he had a radiator-water cleaning system coming down the line that would only pad what he’d thought were considerably thick bank accounts. When it was a hundred-plus and dry as a skeleton’s ass, a farmer would be in love with this product.

Whitney smiled. “We’re fine. If Kara’s jams and such take off, that’ll boost the home-values look of Chester Farms that Momma always liked. I said what I needed to get Kara back home. She was hedging on the phone when we talked. I told her we could use the extra marketing and that got her to agree. Just a little white lie.” Her smile slipped and she looked down at her paperwork. A heavy breath eased out of her and her shoulders fell. “I know you don’t want her here, but I lost my best friend when the two of you broke up. I’d do anything to have her back.”

Guilt weighed heavy. “I still don’t get why she quit talking to you.”

Whitney picked up a wad of mail and turned back to her computer. “Because when a girl wants to bitch about the man in her life, she doesn’t want to do it with his sister.”

What would Kara have bitched about? Hell, there’d been nothing to complain about. Except maybe that she was bored out of her mind every time they went out. Still didn’t seem like that was enough. Kara had moved on the next day anyway. If anything, she’d want to talk about John.

He pushed out of the chair and headed out front to put the tractor under the shed. There were a couple days left before opening weekend and he had to get this place cleaned up. His older brother was tied up at his jewelry store, leaving Wade to pick up the slack. Not that Tate often helped on the farm, but he was usually around for preparations to openings. Before today, Wade would have said it sucked to have to do all the work alone. Now that Kara arrived? Bring it.

Just him, hard work breaking his back and music to shut out the rest of the world. It would be good hard labor, something he was going to need with Kara under his nose. He stepped outside and, speak of the devil, there she was, walking up the steps. Ten minutes and she was already back. Worst idea ever and Whitney would see eventually that this was never going to work.

If Kara had shed any of those tears that had filled her eyes in the orchard, the evidence of it was gone. She shifted her stance and stared somewhere off over his shoulder. “I forgot my portfolio.”

“Okay.”

She rubbed her hands over her hips and tapped her fingers on her thighs. “I left it on Whitney’s desk and wanted to flip through it tonight now that I know what produce you have.”

He stepped aside, and the wind picked up the sweet scent off her and surrounded him with it. She started by, but he stopped her. The sight of her again was too raw against his skin. Too sudden back in his life. The touch of her arm against his palm too fresh and her perfume intoxicated him and swam through his veins.

Her gaze finally lifted to his and a small ball of hope filled him that perhaps something had changed. Maybe now her skin tingled and bunched because of his touch like that one elusive time when he’d put his mouth to her shoulder. That when she looked at him with her eyes searching him like they were, all she could think of was getting her hands on him. That maybe he was wrong all those years ago.

Not wasting time, he pulled her to him and dropped his mouth over hers as her eyes widened. Maybe, just maybe, he could kiss the passion into her. Kiss her until she felt the same so she would know how his heart pounded when she glanced at him. Know what it was like to want someone as badly as he did. It didn’t work all those years ago, but he was desperate. He would never make it day in and day out having her at this reachable, but untouchable, distance.

She stiffened. A squeak mumbled past her lips even as he pressed more firmly across her mouth. It wasn’t enough. He had to show her more. He pulled out the band holding her hair back. The brown strands were softer than he remembered. Silky between his fingers and so very easy to imagine fanned across his chest and shoulders. The picture of her against him didn’t distract him enough to notice that she wasn’t responding. Wanting so much and not getting it, he pressed more one last time, swiped his tongue over the seal of her lips. But she didn’t open for him. Didn’t soften, moan or wrap her arms around his neck.

Every last inch of his body came alive when she stood so near. It didn’t matter what he did, she didn’t have a similar reaction. How it was possible to want someone so much when she didn’t want him back, he’d never be able to explain. Would pay someone to explain it to him. He could damn well say what it felt like. Sharpened razors twisting in his chest, leaving him bleeding and hurting as he straightened and pulled away.

She stood there. Her eyes wide as she stared.

He mumbled apologies and got the hell away. So long as she was in town, he feared he’d never be able to get away far enough. He needed to figure out something, anything to find a way to work around her when she didn’t want anything to do with him. His track record was shit.

In the past half hour he’d pissed her off, made her cry and now manhandled her. Or was that sexual assault? His head spun. Around the side of the house and out of her view, he stopped and rested in a squat with his hand flat to the ground as his world finished turning.

The last time he’d drunk himself out of his mind was the night Kara had flipped him the bird and left town. He’d stayed that way for days on his brother’s couch. He swore he’d never do that again.

The idea was suddenly appealing.

Chapter Three

Just grabbed her and kissed her! Ten minutes later and back at her old house, Kara’s lips were still tingling.

For a moment she’d wondered if she’d been dreaming. That forceful taking was what she’d once wanted out of Wade. An attempt to seduce her one last time and she’d fall into his arms, be swept away as she should have been all those years ago with her heart fluttering.

Countless times she’d thought out the “what-if” in case he ever kissed her again. Entire scenarios had played out in her head of how she’d react, sexy things to say and where she’d touch him first. Of the dozens of scenarios she’d dreamed up, there’d even been one or two right there on that front porch. A heavy sigh eased out of her. As much as she’d wanted and hoped for a kiss like that, it shouldn’t have happened.

After everything, they had no business kissing.

Years ago she hadn’t kissed him because she’d been playing hard to get. It’d all been part of The Grand Plan to simply be different than his other girlfriends. Another wash of humiliation heated through her cheeks.

Today she couldn’t kiss him because it was too much of a risk. If she fell for Wade and they didn’t work out—again—she’d never be able to face Whitney because she wouldn’t be able to step foot on Chester Farms to face Wade.

Kara didn’t know what could be rebuilt of her life here. Whitney’s welcome was exaggerated, but she was trying. Trying was all Kara needed at the moment to find her way back home. Even if only a glimpse of the friendship they once had returned, it was worth it. Kara had already learned a few kisses wasn’t worth losing it all.

Kara rested against the seat back in her car and stared over the hood to the old three-bedroom house and willed her stomach to settle down while a cold sweat of nerves draped across her forehead. She closed her eyes and simply breathed to prepare for what was waiting inside. She couldn’t call it a home. A nightmare or hellhole both fit, but not home. The white siding was aged with weather, time and, if it were possible for a building to be alive, she would guess stress. Living with her mom hadn’t been easy. Not that her mom noticed.

That cold, dead lump in Kara’s heart that should be filled with her mother’s love lay there like a rock in her chest. Her mom hadn’t noticed much at all. Certainly not the piles of laundry and dishes in the sink. Or the rows of magazines and crap “discovered” at yard sales lining the halls until nothing but a slim trail weaved a path from one room to another.

Especially not Kara. If not for Chester Farms, Kara probably would have been buried alive in first grade when her mother really started becoming obsessed with her daydreams. Nothing was more super than for a six-year-old to realize her mother dreamed so much of the life she wanted, she generally forgot her only child was alive. A pinch twisted in her chest so hard a sob escaped.

Where her mother was distant, Jana Chester filled that void. At least, until Kara had gotten lost in her
own
daydreams and turned her back on the Chesters. Kara’s heart shook out unsteady beats that caused her fingertips to tremble. She’d flirted too hard with her mom’s crazy switch. That’s what they called it. What else could an eight-year-old put to words when her mom went from quietly watching TV to flipping her lid because Kara pushed a magazine over two inches to put a drink of water on a side table.

Her mom’s screeching, unpredictable and nonsensical rants whispered through her mind. Like clockwork from when she was that little girl listening to it, Kara picked up the tune to “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” to block out the cruel words. She traced the smooth metal circles, making the emblem on her steering wheel as she hummed off the last of the verse. Seven years since Kara had jumped on her mom’s crazy train, turned her back on the ones she loved the most, and it still left her horrified. Those couple months when she’d tried making Wade jealous had been too close to turning her into her mother. It was easy to forget what you had when you were so focused on dreaming of what you wanted. The shame started up and Kara got out of her car.

But that was before. She pushed her door closed and left all those thoughts and feelings locked up inside. And this was her life now. No more silly-girl dreams and ideas. No more thoughts of being rescued and falling in love. Or playing games with people to get what she wanted. It was time to be a grown-up. Something her mom had never managed to do.

After moving to her dad’s, she’d taken classes to learn how to build a website for her canning business. She took some classes on marketing to know what to put on that website. Even though she knew the basic process, she’d spent hours at her grandma’s side learning to can and after a few months, she manned her grandma’s spot at the local farmers’ market like a champ.

For a few months seven years ago, she’d slipped and became her mom, but she was over it.

Weeds slapped against Kara’s legs as she walked to the trunk of her car. The old concrete where she’d used to roller-skate was cracked with pebbles broken off from grass growing through. The flower beds she had once picked daises from to hopefully make her mom smile were completely gone.

The grass was overgrown, the driveway needed fixing and the house could use a coat of paint, but it wasn’t the weed-encrusted place with vines trying to pull it down she’d imagined coming back to. Of course, there was still the inside to look at and she shuddered as she popped the trunk. Mom had lived here on her own for a couple years. It was possible Kara wouldn’t be able to get the front door open for the piles of things inside.

“Where’s Mr. Wade?”

Kara jumped and turned in the driveway until she found a pair of big blue eyes under a mop of sweaty brown hair peeking over the neighbor’s fence. He had freckles across his pale face and a smudge of dirt down the side of his nose. “Where’s who?”

“Are you going to mow the grass here now?” Chubby little fingers with a garden’s worth of dirt under the nails grabbed the fence. “Mr. Wade always let me help.”

She blinked. “Wade...Chester?”

He let out a loud breath and pushed away from the fence. “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Wade always let me help mow the grass.”

Her heart pinched. That explained why the outside wasn’t a complete terror.

“He does it since the yelling lady can’t no more.”

“The yelling lady?” Her throat tightened as the boy came around the corner of the fence.

The boy ducked. “Momma says not to call her that, but I don’t know her name. She says not to talk about her.” He frowned and pointed at the house. “Lots of police just showed up one day and took her away. Momma said I shouldn’t remember that, but I do.” He leaned a little closer. “I also remember when they took her away, she yelled out words Momma says I can’t say. I stood on the porch and watched.”

Kara pulled at the tight neck of her T-shirt. Police had shown up one day. Not that Kara saw it. According to her dad, the town had only tolerated her mother’s antics so long before they’d had her arrested. A home had been her only option. Those were the only details she had on that day and they’d been fed to her in a way to make sure she’d been terrified.

“
Neighbors finally had enough of your mom.
Made another fool of herself like you did and now she’s arrested and is being forced into a home.
She had it made after her lawyer ran me through the cleaners.
Watch your head
—”
he tapped on her forehead as she was leaned over the day’s newspaper
, “—
or you’ll be next and you don’t have a husband to be forced into taking care of you.
”

Letting her never forget how much she was like her mom was Dad’s favorite hobby. It was right next to his constant reminders of her mistakes. Both were primary reasons why she ran off to Grandma’s house as often as possible before she was able to move in with her.

The little boy kicked at the tall weeds as he walked through the grass. “Momma says she don’t know why Mr. Wade mows the grass for her, but she’s glad he do or else the weeds would make our yard look bad.”

She couldn’t stoop so low as to ask a little boy about her mother. That was the stuff of nightmares, but she would have to ask Whitney. When Kara had left, her mother hadn’t been crazy exactly. More like quiet and oblivious unless you touched her stuff and set her off. The last thing Kara could imagine was her mom yelling out a bunch of curse words to police officers.

The boy pulled up a weed, picked the seeds off and tossed them in the yard. “Mr. Wade keeps a push mower in the garage. That way he don’t have to carry one back and forth. But he says I’m not allowed to touch it unless he’s here to help.”

She shook her head. The yard did need to be cut and if it would delay seeing what the inside might look like, then so be it. Kara dropped her bag back in the trunk. “Sounds like a good idea.”

She walked to the garage, gripped the handles and tugged. The heavy door rattled, but smoothly lifted on the tracks and she pushed it up. Wade was taking care of more things he shouldn’t, she would guess. Just like the boy had said, a mower was parked inside.

“
Aiden!
”

The boy sighed. “Aw, man. That’s my mom. We have to go to the store.”

Before she could say another word, he was running from the garage and out of there. She rubbed her hands down her hips. He was a refreshing and friendly change from the old couple she remembered next door. She winced. There were only so many places the eighty-plus-year-old people could have gone to over the past seven years and heaven was likely a strong one.

Kara took a turn around the mower. She’d spent much of the past seven years with her grandma who lived in an apartment and didn’t have a yard to maintain. The last mower she’d operated was at the Chesters’ and if she wasn’t mistaken, it was this one. She shook her head. They’d given this thing heck. Mrs. Jana hadn’t believed in grounding and sending them to a room. Bad grades, back-talking and poor manners was the fastest way to get extra chores.

Dishes were hand-washed, dried and put away, instead of getting tossed in the dishwasher. Floors were mopped with a bucket and old mop that had to be rung out off the back steps. Yard was mowed around the house and barn with the push mower while that big fancy riding lawn mower sat in the shade. God, how she’d missed all that when she’d moved to Dad’s.

Kara squatted and rubbed her thumb across the old peeling label on the handle. The flecks of the crinkled plastic caught on her thumb as she set the choke and reached for the pull. Kara had taken her turn pushing this just as often as Wade and Whitney.

A car pulled in the drive behind hers and a door slammed. Kara leaned back and saw Whitney coming her way with two boxes of pizza and two drinks balanced on the top. Whitney stopped halfway to the garage. “By the looks of you, I should have waited half an hour before showing up.”

Kara laughed. “I met the boy next door and he pointed out that the grass needed mowing.”

Whitney shook her head. “Aiden. He’s a mess.”

She looked back to the mower. “I can’t believe Wade’s been keeping the yard mowed.”

Whitney moved beside her and stared at the antique. “He said it needed to be done and left it at that. Let me put the pizza inside before you get that thing started.”

Kara shifted and dug the old key from her pocket. Her mother hoarding trash and dirty clothes wasn’t going to be any big surprise for Whitney. Not that her mom had let Whitney inside. Nobody came inside the house, ever. Occasionally, though, they’d run down here together so Kara could grab something. And Whitney could see inside the door. Kara held the key out. “I haven’t gone in yet so watch your step. If you can get in the door.”

Whitney stared at her hand a moment then took the key from her. “It’s clean inside.” She blinked. “Well, I mean, it’s going to be dusty because it’s been locked up, but it’s clean.”

Not possible unless there were fairies who drove really big dump trucks. And the cleaning fairies never visited before. “How?”

“After they took her, Mom came over here first thing and got all your stuff that was left behind. What she could find is boxed up and put in the attic at the house. She didn’t want anything to happen to any of it.” Whitney picked at the corner of the pizza box. “When she saw how messy it was, she hired a cleaning crew to go through it. Your mom’s things are still in there, but her...mess is gone.”

Kara lowered her head, not even sure she wanted to know how bad her mom had let it get in the years she’d been alone. The older Kara got, the fewer things her mom threw away and the more her mom seemed lost to her mind. Some days it was bringing home more piles of crap she thought Dad would like. Like somehow the ten years’ worth of his favorite magazines piled by his chair would have him running home. Then that switch in her head would flip and she’d go on a rant of how if he was there to help around the house to even just mow the yard, she could keep the inside clean.

She was never happy, and the more the years went by, the more Kara seemed to set her off, until Kara just left one day to stay with the Chesters and rarely came back.

Mrs. Jana had taught her a lot about how you were supposed to live.
Messes are fine
,
but for God sakes
,
let the neighbors see that and you’ll be called trashy for life!
She chuckled and stood. At Whitney’s blank face, Kara shook her head. “I’m trying to imagine your mom walking through that. Put the pizza on the counter. It won’t take me long to at least mow the front. Aiden said his mom worries the weeds are going to infect their yard.”

Whitney rolled her eyes. “Snobby bitch. I hate to tell you, but your neighbor is Maddy Booth.”

“You’re kidding.” Damn. So much for better neighbors. Maddy Booth was pretty much the ringleader of the Bella Bitches. She wasn’t such a pain in the ass to Kara, but always to Whitney. So by default, Maddy could kiss her bare-naked backside. From softball to cheerleading to anything they could race at, those two were after it. Whitney getting captain of the softball team her senior year had been about the final straw for the two of them to continue with polite, forced smiles when adults were around.