Declaration (5 page)

“You can’t give up. Not after you were so close to finally having her.”

“You overheard everything in that parking lot, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I was outside having a smoke. Sorry, man.”

“Maybe you’re right, but something’s gotta change regardless. I need to get my shit together. This is a start.” He gestured to the living room, which I now noticed was empty.

“Where’s all your stuff? And what’s up with all the cleaning?” My eyes fell to the box of cleaning supplies. Jackson wasn’t exactly the cleanest person I’d ever met. If he was cleaning, he probably meant business.

“Uh…I’ve been evicted.” He scuffed his foot on the floor, looking down. He didn’t want to elaborate. I wasn’t about to ask him to if he was clearly embarrassed, but damn. Evicted? “I moved out. I’m just here for the day to finish cleaning up before I turn over the key. I told my landlord I’d give the place a good scrub before he moves the new tenant in. Figured it was the least I could do for sticking him on rent.”

“You moved out? Where are you living?”

“Gonna live on my dad’s old sailboat for a while. It’s down at the marina. It’s all I need for now. I can’t afford the rent here anymore, so…”

“Your dad doesn’t use the boat?”

“Nah, he’s locked up.” He cleared his throat and set his beer down. Walking back to the box of cleaning stuff, he pulled out a rag and a bottle of spray bleach. “Anyway, no need to apologize, dude. I was just pissed at you because I wanted more time with Emma last night. I wanted her to calm down, wanted her to listen to me. But I crossed the line this time. I’ll be lucky if she ever speaks to me again.”

“Just give her some time.”

“Yeah.” Jackson’s frown shifted into something sadder. The guy wasn’t looking too good. Damn, had I been there.

“Well, as long as we’re cool, I’m gonna get going. I have to return this rental car. I’ve had it since I moved to town and it’s dried up my bank account. Time to start relying on good old-fashioned public transportation again.”

“What?” Jackson dropped the rag into a bucket and turned to face me. “No need for that. I’ll give you a lift home from the rental car place. I can start asking around to see if anyone has a car they’re looking to sell.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Look at me,” Jackson waved his hands, glancing down at his torn jeans and ratty white t-shirt. “Do I look like I have anything better to do today?”

I laughed. “Thanks, man. I can get by for a while. I live and work at the marina, so it’s not like I have to commute often.”

“You’re still gonna need some wheels.” He clapped my back and started for the door and I followed, thankful for the fresh air. His place reeked of bleach.

My phone started vibrating the second Jackson and I rolled back up to my place after dropping the rental car off. “See you at work tomorrow?” I asked, hopping out of his truck.

“Yes, sir.” He gave a salute and drove away, and I pulled out my phone to check the caller ID. I didn’t recognize the number, but the area code was local.

“Hello?”

“Carter?”

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“It’s Whitney. Emma’s friend?”

I stilled at the bottom of the shop stairway. “Whitney?”

“Yeah, um…you left your number for Emma on her refrigerator door. Am I catching you at a bad time?”

“No, not at all. What’s up?”

“It’s Emma. You know how earlier, I said I thought she’d be okay?”

“Uh huh…”

“Well, now I’m not so sure.”

“Did something happen?”

“You could say that.” She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “Look, I don’t want to bother you or anything, but I came to her place straight from work and saw your number on her fridge and figured maybe…maybe you wouldn’t mind helping me. She doesn’t know I’m calling you right now. I’m not sure who else to ask for help. I want to keep her business kinda quiet, you know? News travels fast on this island.”

“Help you? I don’t mind. I mean, whatever you need. But I don’t have a car at the moment, so I’m not sure how to get to you.”

“I can come get you. Is that okay?”

I started up the shop stairwell and dug my flat key from my pocket. “Yeah, that’d be fine. How long do I have?”

“Ah, give me 20 minutes. Where do you live?”

“Right down at the marina—the flat above the boat shop on the corner.”

“Yup, I know the place. Okay, see you soon. Thanks, Carter.”

“No problem. See you in a few.” I hung up and hurriedly shoved my key into the lock, on a mission to shower and change before she showed up. What could be so bad that she felt she needed to call me for help? Was Emma really losing it? I couldn’t imagine things being worse than last night. If anything, I figured she’d be sleeping it off all day.

As I scrambled to grab some fresh clothes and hop in the shower, my cell began to buzz again from the dresser. I rushed over and picked it up, freezing when I saw Kate’s name. “Shit.”
To pick it up or not to pick it up, to pick it up or not pick it up.
I hadn’t spoken to her at all. Hadn’t even bothered to return one measly text. I knew I was being a dick, but I honestly had no clue what to say to the woman. I wasn’t sure I’d know until I somehow got my Ryan Rage under control, but God only knew when that would happen. I still couldn’t get a handle on that beast.

The phone buzzed and buzzed, lighting up with text after text, and then finally, a call. With a deep breath, I hit
ignore
, then set the phone back on the dresser and walked to the bathroom.

3
TEAM WORK

I didn’t know what to expect when Whitney arrived. I wasn’t sure what to say, what not to say, or whether to get any more involved with what was going on between her friend and Jackson at all, but what I did know was Whitney sounded genuinely concerned for Emma, and I couldn’t say no to her. As much as I wasn’t thrilled about interfering, the moment I drove Emma home and the moment I’d befriended Jackson, I’d become invested in their business.

Damn it all.

What had happened to the simple days, when I spent all afternoon lounging on the couch watching TV with Dean before it was time for my shift at Pike Place or time for our next gig? Oh yeah, that’s right.

Kate happened.

Pulling on a Hellions t-shirt and fastening the button on my jeans, I hurried to the door when I heard the knock.

“Hey,” Whitney said, her eyes dropping to the band name on my t-shirt. She paused, adjusting her purse on her shoulder, indiscreetly staring at my arms next.

I curiously followed her gaze to my tattoos. “Hey, I’m ready to go. I just need to grab some shoes—”

“Can I come in?” She sent me a nervous glance. If I didn’t know any better, she looked…shy. I wasn’t sure why, but it struck me as odd. Maybe it was because my initial impression of her—including seeing her at Pete’s, before we officially met—was that she was anything but shy. Everything about her oozed confidence. Liveliness.

“Oh, sure. Sorry, thought you were in a rush to get to Emma.”

“It’s okay,” she said meekly, wandering inside when I stepped aside to give her room. She studied the walls, taking in the posters and photos I’d tacked up. “You apologize a lot, do you know that?”

“I do?” I shut the door when she was fully inside my flat, feeling my pockets for my pack of smokes. Seeing this gorgeous girl in my place made me itchy for a smoke. I hadn’t invited a girl here since I’d moved in. With the exception of the strippers Jackson had brought around for my housewarming party, my time with females had been pretty sparse.

“You do. You should stop doing that.”

“Sorry.”

She turned to me and arched a brow.

“Soooo….”

“Is that the name of your band?” Whitney gestured to my t-shirt.

She wanted to talk about my band? Her best friend was having some sort of crisis. Wasn’t that what this was about? “Oh,” I glanced down, tugging at the shirt. “Yup.
Was
my band.”

“Judging by your performance on the dock yesterday, I’m guessing you guys were pretty good.”

“We weren’t bad.”

She pursed her lips and nodded, swiveling around to continue her survey of my modest living space. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest as she strolled around. Letting out a long, deep breath, she dropped her hands to her sides when she reached my DVD collection. “Downton Abbey?”

I jolted forward, clearing my throat. “Yeah, it’s uh…it’s a good show.”

She arched her brow again, this time showcasing that pretty grin and sexy dimple of hers. “Now this seems a little more like something I expected to find in your apartment,” she said matter-of-factly, finding and lifting a black, lacy bra from the edge of the TV stand. She let it twirl and dangle from her finger.

Shit. I hadn’t bothered picking up since Jackson had thrown that party.

“Why, Carter from Seattle, are you blushing?”

I tugged at my bottom lip with my thumb and forefinger. “I think you’re seeing things.”

“Your pale skin says otherwise.”

I snatched the bra from her hand and tossed it behind the couch. “That’s not mine. I mean, it doesn’t belong to anyone I know. I mean it’s not—”

“
Riggghhht
,” Whitney giggled. “So were you a ladies’ man back in Seattle, too, or are Jackson’s ways just rubbing off on you?”

“What?” I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Yeah…neither, believe me.”

“So you’re not seeing anyone? I find that hard to believe.” Her eyes gravitated to my arms again, and then slowly roamed back up to my face. God save the Queen, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was flirting with me.

I smiled, narrowing my eyes and moving closer. “No, not seeing anyone. You?”

“Nope. Do you have a girlfriend back home?”

My smile faded. “No girlfriend. Not for a long time.”

“Oh.” Her brows lifted.

“Why is that surprising?”

“No reason.” She shrugged, resuming her stroll around my apartment.

I patted my pockets again, desperate to find those smokes. Where the hell were they? “Aren’t you…didn’t you come here because Emma was in some kind of trouble?”

“Well, truth be told, she passed out right before I left to come get you. I think it was more tequila.”

“Oh no. Break ups and tequila are never a good combination.”

“Well, technically, she and Jackson were never really together. It’s all so stupid.” She sighed. “They should be together, they just aren’t. It’s like all of the odds were against them the second Jackson found her the night her sister died. The timing just never seems to work out right for those two. Anyway,” she popped a hip and smirked at me, “I really just wanted an excuse to see you again. I like you, Mr. New Guy.”

Well, shit.

I gaped at her for a second, realizing whatever shyness I thought I’d picked up on had most definitely vanished.

“Is that so?”

“Yup.” She held my gaze, sure and steady. “Wanted to see your bachelor pad and say hey. But my phone call wasn’t completely deceptive, though. I really am worried about Emma, and I wanted to talk to you in person. Asking for help on the phone just feels so impersonal.” Wow. I broke contact first, suddenly intimidated by those gorgeous eyes. “Well, how can I be of service? What happened? She went on a tequila bender?”

“No, that was just the beginning. It started with a bag of Oreos, which led to two boxes of tissues, which led to a little rage fest and then some shredding anything and everything that reminded her of Jackson, and then finally, she resorted to the tequila.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, well, all of that is not what concerns me, actually.”

“It doesn’t? Then what is it?”

“She doesn’t want to clean with me.”

I looked at her blankly. “Come again?”

“She won’t clean with me. That’s not normal Emma behavior.”

“Okay, still lost.”

“It’s me and Emma’s thing. Crazy and totally fucking weird, yes, but it’s
our
thing. When we’re stressed, pissed off, mad at the world, need to think, whatever—we clean. I crank up Red Hot Chili Peppers, fill some shot glasses, and then we throw on some rubber gloves and tackle the floors and counters until they’re so clean you could eat off of them.”

Did this girl just mention Red Hot Chili Peppers, drinking, and cleaning floors all in the same sentence? Because I think I just fell in love a little, if she did. Crazy and weird was my favorite combination.

“Okay, so what does that mean? She’s worse than you thought?”

“Much worse, which is what I wanted to talk to you about…” She shifted nervously and moved to sit on the couch. “The thing is, I don’t just need your help today. I think I might need some help for the next few days. For a while, I’m not sure how long. I guess until she gets through this whole thing. I know you just met me and it’s probably really awkward for me to ask this of you, but I work two jobs and go to school and I can’t be there for her the way I need to be right now. And, well, considering the way you drove her home like that and left her your number in case she needed anything…I figured maybe you wouldn’t mind being my go-to guy. I can’t bring Emma’s mom into this, and I definitely don’t want to get her ex-boyfriend Chris involved. It wouldn’t be a good idea right now.” She yanked at a lock of hair that had fallen loose from her bun then stood to her feet, stretching her arms above her head. My eyes traveled down to her chest.