Karen Templeton – The Real Mr Right (страница 5)

After last night, however...

Still dressed, she unwrapped herself from the heavy Pendleton blanket that had been folded at the foot of Sabrina’s bed and crunched forward, forking her fingers through her tangled curls before answering.

“Where the hell are you?” Rick said.

Meaning he’d been by the apartment. Squeezing her eyes shut, Kelly hugged the brightly patterned blanket to her cramping chest, reminding herself of how far she’d come, that she was brave and strong and no longer vulnerable to Rick’s guilt trips. To his threats, veiled or otherwise. That she was nobody’s victim, dammit. “You don’t need to know that right now.”

“The hell you say. And that’s not answering the question.”

Anger propelled her off the bed, even if she did cling to the bedpost for support as she shoved her still-socked feet into her sneakers. “Yes, it is—”

“It’s not right, Kelly,” Rick whined in her ear, “not knowing where my kids are. Why are you punishing me like this?”

Dear God—was he serious? She sank onto the edge of the rumpled bed, her free arm strangling her trembling stomach. Had she dreamed last night? Or misinterpreted things that badly?

Then she remembered his voice, low and cold, uttering words she would have never dreamed she’d ever hear come out of his mouth, even at his worst, and her strength returned. “This isn’t about punishing you, it’s about protecting our children—”

“That’s bull—”

“You threatened them, Rick!” she whispered, praying the kids were still asleep. “Said if you couldn’t have them, then neither of us could.”

“What? Where the hell are you getting this?”

“From you. Word for word.”

A beat or two passed before he said, “Even if I did say that, you’ve got it all balled up, I couldn’t have possibly meant—”

“I know what I heard, Rick. And how you said it. You telling me you don’t remember—?”

“I don’t, swear to God. Whether you believe me or not.”

Kelly sighed so hard it was almost painful. “Well, you did. Whether you believe me or not. Look, I know we’ve had this conversation a hundred times already, but I’m going to say it again—you need help. And if what went down last night doesn’t bring that home for you, I don’t know what will. And until you get that help—” she fisted her free hand “—I’m not letting you anywhere near the kids. End of discussion, I’m done.”

Shaking slightly, she disconnected the call as Matt appeared at the open bedroom door, startling her, his arms crossed as if nothing short of a tornado would budge him. While she probably looked like a headlight-blinded possum a split second before splat.

Wondering how much he’d heard—and deciding she didn’t care—Kelly splayed her fingers through her hair again, then let her hand drop.

“Kind of hard to have a meltdown with you gawking at me like that.”

“You think I’ve never seen a meltdown before?”

“Not from me you haven’t. And trust me, it’s not pretty.”

“Somehow, I doubt you can top Sabrina in that department—”

“Matt! For heaven’s sake—don’t you have someplace, anyplace, to be?”

He shoved his fingers into his jeans’ pockets, revealing a dark green corduroy shirt underneath a beat-up leather jacket. Black, of course. To go with the beard stubble, even more pronounced than it’d been last night. “Yeah, actually,” he said on a rush of air, “I’m expecting a delivery at the house, then I’m headed into the city. But it can wait—”

“No. Really. We’ll be fine.” Kelly tried to smile, failed, went with a frustrated growl instead. “Dammit—I thought I’d feel relieved once we got away. Instead I feel... I don’t know. Like...like maybe I overreacted.”

Matt’s expression darkened. “And what was the alternative? Stick around until something bad did happen? Like you said yourself, sometimes you gotta listen to that voice.”

“Then why can’t I trust that? If it’s so right, why am I second-guessing myself?” Her hand shot up. “Never mind, don’t answer that. Not that you could. And, anyway, you don’t need to get sucked into this any more than you already are. But thanks. For letting us stay here.”

“No problem,” Matt said, then extended his hand. “Give me your phone.”

She pressed it to her chest. “Why?”

“So I can plug in my number, why do you think? And I want yours, too.” When she hesitated, he pushed out a breath. “I’m not gonna stalk you, for God’s sake. Just give me the damn phone.” So she did, and watched with the strangest mixture of relief and worry as he deftly added his number to her contacts. “You need anything, you call, you hear me? And before you give me any this-is-my-problem-not-yours crap... I get that, okay? Doesn’t mean you have to deal with it alone.” He handed back her phone, then dug his out of his jacket pocket. Waited.

She sighed, told him then frowned. “Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, for all intents and purposes we’re strangers—”

“Like hell.” Matt slipped his phone back into his pocket, then slammed his hands into his jacket pockets. “I mean, yeah, on the surface, you have a point. But we saw each other nearly every day for years. That hardly makes us strangers. In fact, I’m guessing both Sabrina and my dad would say you were family. Not to mention my mom, if she were still here. And they’d all three wring my neck if they thought I’d left you to swing in the breeze. So deal with it.”

She almost smiled. “Is there another option?”

“No.” He started to leave, turned back. “Abby should be up soon, the dog’s already been out and everything’s fair game in the kitchen. I’ll be back by two, but if you need anything—”

“Yeah, yeah, got it. Thanks.”

He gave her a long, disquieting look, then huffed out a breath. “Just so you know? I’m not entirely unconflicted about this. Like you said, I’ve only got your side of the story. That said, I’ve worked my fair share of domestic abuse cases, saw more times than I can count women who didn’t follow their instincts, who either didn’t see or didn’t want to see the warning signs. Or were too scared to act on them. So if what you’re saying is true...then what you’re doing? Takes balls.”

With that, he finally left. Only somehow his presence remained, all that ubermacho protective energy vibrating around her. Through her. And she thought, This is bad.

Because what she had brewing here was a perfect storm of overwrought, celibate woman colliding with honorable hunk...to whom, alas, Kelly wasn’t less attracted than she had been in days of yore.

So, yeah. Hell.

By rights, she should have felt more safe, more secure, that Matt took his protective role so seriously, his justified ambivalence notwithstanding. He’d keep her babies safe, and that was all that mattered. And God knew it would be so easy to simply...let go, let someone else do the thinking, the planning, the worrying.

Except leaning on men—her father, then Rick... She’d done that her entire life. Until that support got ripped away and she’d nearly drowned in her own insecurities.

A ragged breath left Kelly’s mouth as she squatted to dig clean clothes out of the jumbled mess inside her suitcase. She wasn’t stupid. And heaven knew if pride had been an issue she wouldn’t even be here. But there was a fine line between knowing when to ask for help and expecting other people to fix your problems for you. Having barely figured out the difference, for damn sure she wasn’t about to slip back into old habits. Not just for her sake, but especially for her children’s.

Meaning as much as the old Kelly ached to let Matt be Matt, the new one didn’t dare.

* * *

Showered and dressed in at least a clean variation of what she’d worn the day before, Kelly checked on her still-sleeping children before following the heady aroma of brewing coffee to the kitchen. By now the sun had hauled its butt up over the horizon, blasting the space with light and making the countertops glisten more than the patchy snow outside. Matt, bless his heart, had made enough coffee for half the town, and Kelly gratefully filled the huge mug sitting by the maker.

She took that first, glorious sip and sighed. Amazing, what a shower, sunshine and a shot of caffeine could do to brighten one’s mood. Or at least make one feel...hopeful. What tomorrow—shoot, the next hour—would bring, she had no idea. But right now things were better than they had been last night. And that she could work with.

The Newfie clicked over to the French doors, parked her big old nose against one of the panes and rolled back one eye. “No,” Kelly said, and, with a heavy sigh, the dog lumbered off to plop down in a pool of sunlight. Wow. If only the kids were that easy to wrangle.

Inside her jeans’ pocket, her phone vibrated in tandem with her mother-in-law’s ringtone, and the hopefulness wavered.

“Hi, Lynn,” she said softly, searching for something, anything, the kids would eat, since her cooking skills were totally lost on them.

“You really took the kids away?”

Lucky Charms! Yes! “I really did.”

“Far?”

“Far enough. Doubt Rick and I will run into each other in the supermarket.” An unlikely possibility, in any case, since Rick hadn’t seen the inside of a grocery store in decades. She unearthed a pair of plastic bowls from the cupboard, set them on the counter.