The Sound of Consequence (Puget Sound ~ Alive With Love Book 1) (22 page)

Owen spoke slowly. “I was going
to tell you, when the time was right. I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“How many others are there? How many ex-wives have you had? How many kids do you have out there? Huh, Owen? You said we need to talk, so talk.”

Her words started to slur, the two beers obviously going straight to her head. It looked like she had the potential to be very angry when she was drunk. Owen had a lot of experience with angry drunks, having grown up with one who beat the crap out of him when the bastard wasn’t busy beating the crap out of Owen’s mother.

“I’m not talking to you like this. Let me take you home.” Owen reached across the table and took her hand.

“No,” she yelled, pulling her hand away again. “I don’t want to go home with you. I don’t want to be the next wife you divorce.” She let out a loud hiccup.

Owen didn’t know whether to love her or hate her. Turning toward the bar, he waved the server over. “Two coffees please.”

Stacie continued to hiccup. Owen tried not to smile, afraid if he did he’d start laughing. And he suspected that would only rile her up even more. The server returned with the coffees, a sympathetic smile on her face.

“D’you sleep with her too? Maybe she’s…one of your ex-wives. How many women have you…been with Owen? Which notch…on your belt am I?” Stacie ended the hiccup-plagued rant with another hiccup.

“Drink your coffee,” Owen said, trying not to sound too commanding.

They sat in silence while they drank their coffees. Their gum-smacking server came over as they were finishing up to see if they wanted more. “Ice water,” Stacie replied. A minute later Stacie guzzled it down.

Owen, thinking she had sobered up enough, or at least calmed down enough, finally spoke. “I told you about Kristina already. I’ll tell you about Daphne and Hailey. First, you to tell me about Greg.” Owen hadn’t wanted to give her an ultimatum, but he was losing patience.

He hadn’t expected her to be engaged, although now he remembered that first night and how her finger was smooth from having worn a ring for a long time. He needed to hear from her that she wasn’t engaged any longer. If she was still involved with this Greg guy, Owen had to walk away. Or he had to fight for her. He didn’t think he could walk away, but he couldn’t fight for her without knowing the truth.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she said, getting up.

Owen figured she was looking for an escape. Though after two beers, coffee, and ice water, going to the bathroom was a legitimate need.

He stood and watched her walk past the bar to the restrooms down the hall. When she was out of sight, he pulled an envelope from his backpack. Greg had handed it to him, to give to Stacie. It was only clasped shut, not sealed.

It was tempting to look in it. What was so important that this Greg guy had to hand deliver to Stacie?

Despite the fact that she had gone through his things, which was now obvious since she admitted knowing about Daphne and Hailey, he couldn’t bring himself to open it. This was her personal business and if she wanted to share it with him, she would.

Owen grew impatient waiting for her to come back from the bathroom. He knew she was upset, so maybe she needed time to pull herself together. Maybe giving her an ultimatum wasn’t the best idea. But he did need to know that it was over between her and that straight-laced guy at the pier.

After ten minutes, Owen’s patience was completely spent, so he made his way to the ladies’ room. He wanted to bust in, make sure that Stacie was all right, but he forced calmness through his body, then knocked gently.

“Stacie, you OK in there?”

The server came out from the kitchen and stopped abruptly when she saw Owen. “Can you check on my girlfriend for me? She’s been in there a while.”

The woman shook her head and took a step back. “She’s not in there. She, uh, she left, about ten minutes ago.”

“Left?” Owen asked. How could she leave? He’d been watching the front door.

“Sorry. She seemed upset and asked if she could leave out the back.”

Owen slammed his fist into the hard wood of the door.

“OK, maybe I’m not sorry,” the server said.

Owen shook his head, reeling his temper back. “I’d never hurt her,” he murmured, more to himself than the woman. He wanted to pound that Greg guy into the ground, but he’d never lay a hand on Stacie.

The server smacked her gum, a hand resting on her hitched hip. “Yeah, well, I’m not the one you have to convince. And right now, I don’t think you could convince anyone.”

Owen shoved his fisted hands into his pockets. Dammit. What was he going to do now? He still didn’t have a clue where she lived. Stacie had made sure of that.

~~~

Stacie wasn’t sure how much of a head start she had on Owen. Trudy seemed happy to help when Stacie asked if there was another way out of the bar. The cute sandals didn’t allow for speed, but between her need to escape and her pounding head, she’d managed to keep a brisk pace. Now, all she wanted was to crawl into bed and forget the last two days had ever happened.

She’d been foolish to think she was ready to open her heart to Owen. So what if he made her feel things she had never felt with Greg? Who cared that she felt desired for the first time in her life? And the fact that he made her feel loved, well that was more like fiction since Stacie couldn’t be trusted to make good decisions about relationships.

So it didn’t matter that Owen’s affection made her want to love, too. Besides, this move to Seattle was about starting a new career and living life on her terms. That’s not something she could do fully if she was going to love someone. Relationships were about compromise, sacrifice. She’d been doing that for years. It was time to take a break.

That self-trust thing was an issue too. Having stayed in a loveless relationship for so long, Stacie doubted she’d accurately recognize what real love felt like.

With the throb at her temples and the ache across her forehead, she knew now wasn’t the time to ponder that subject. She needed ibuprofen and an ice pack. Maybe a lobotomy. Anything to make the ache go away.

Jenny was watching a movie when Stacie got back to the condo.

“Uh oh. This can’t be a good sign,” she said looking at Stacie’s pinched face.

Stacie joined her on the couch and recapped the events. Jenny was going to get it out of her one way or another, just like she always did, and with the pounding in her head, Stacie didn’t resist the pull.

“What really bothers me is how Greg found me at the pier. I haven’t talked to him at all. Not on the phone, not e-mail. You haven’t talked to him, have you?”

Jenny raised an eyebrow. Yeah, right, as if Jenny would tell Greg where they lived. She’d never liked him, always thought Greg was holding Stacie back. In hindsight, Stacie realized Greg had kept her on a very short leash. Told her what to wear, what to buy, how much to eat. No wonder she got panic attacks whenever she thought about him.

“Sorry,” Stacie said, realizing her mistake.

“What about your computer?” Jenny asked. “Despite being a total bore and genuine jerk, Greg was always pretty clever with computers.”

“You think he’s spying on me through the computer?”

“I don’t know. Have you been on your computer? Have you done anything that might have led him to the ferry terminal?”

Stacie thought for a moment. Then the light bulb turned on. She had looked at the ferry schedule online and had looked around on the City of Bremerton website. “Ferry schedule.”

Jenny tapped her finger on her nose, indicating that Stacie had probably figured it out. “Doesn’t Owen work with computer security? Maybe he’ll take a look at it for you.”

She sighed again and shook her head. Owen. With her head still pounding, she didn’t want to think about Owen. “I think we’re through.”

Jenny grabbed her hand. “Girl, nothing has changed since this afternoon. Don’t let Greg ruin this for you. Your feelings for Owen haven’t changed. It’s not a big to-do if you tell him about Greg. Just make sure you do it after one of your marathon sex sessions, because you’ll probably bore him to sleep.” They both laughed. “And maybe it’s time that you clue him in on where you live.” Jenny added.

Until Greg appeared, Stacie had been planning to do just that. So was she second-guessing everything because of Greg or because she should be taking another look at things?

“I’m exhausted,” she conceded, rubbing her forehead, hoping the firm massage would make the pain go way. “I’ll think about it tomorrow, over an ice-cold Frappuccino.”

“You all right?” Jenny asked.

“I had a couple beers, drank them way too fast. Now I’ve got a throbbing headache. I’m going to go to bed.”

Stacie dragged herself out of
bed just after 3:00 in the afternoon. She’d been suffering through bouts of sleeplessness most of the night. Just as she had for the past seven nights, since she last saw Owen. And Greg.

By some miracle, or maybe Jenny’s nagging, she had managed to meet her very first deadline with CC, who was thrilled with the illustration Stacie had provided. Other illustrations had evaded her with the headaches as a constant companion. She had hoped that drinking the beer too fast had caused the throbbing, but the consistency of the headaches proved otherwise. Tension, she thought. Severe mood swings had accompanied the headaches during the day; nightmares accompanied them at night.

Throughout it all, she missed Owen with a ferocity that rivaled the pain of the headaches. Walking away from him had been such a rash decision, impulsive and reactive, not well thought out or responsible. Yes, maybe that was the boring and predictable Stacie showing through her new impulsive demeanor, but sometimes being an adult meant taking responsibility for your action…and reactions. Greg sparked things she didn’t want to acknowledge. So did Owen, but the two men were at opposite ends of the spectrum. Owen was all passion and desire. Greg was all logistics and predictability. Stacie knew which end of the spectrum she wanted to be on.

She’d hoped the headaches would stop so she could sort through her feelings for Owen. It was time to decide, once and for all, whether she wanted a serious relationship or not. If not, she couldn’t continue to see him. Or sleep with him. She’d have to tamp the longing and desire, feed her passion by other means.

For countless minutes, she lay in the billowy bed that had become hers and stared at the picture she had drawn of Owen in Gasworks Park. The image captured him just as he was, leaning back on one elbow, one knee up, his shirt fully open, his pants partially unbuttoned. Soft lines detailed his hard muscles. A fluffy cloud held him, floating among other clouds. The gas plant remnants occupied the background and the entire picture was encased by a sundial, very much like the one that marked the summit of the hill at the park. It was a piece of art that she was quite proud of. It also stirred too many emotions.

She was going mental, trying to decide if she was drawn to Owen because of his incredibly sexy body and amazing sexual skills, or if those deeper feelings she’d been trying to ignore were the real deal. She could justify up the wazoo that his body was the attraction. The fact was, she really did care about him and no amount of denial, or self-doubt, was going to make those feelings go away.

So that was it. She was going to do it. Face him, tell him everything, just as she’d planned to do a week ago. This was the right decision.

And now that it was made, the tension headaches and nightmares would go away and she could get back to her stories and paintings.

It was another sunny day, uncanny for Seattle. Stacie had always heard that it rained a lot, so it seemed strange that it had hardly rained in the few weeks she’d been there. Climbing out of bed, she decided a Frappuccino was the best way to start her day. She pulled on shorts and a tank top, grabbed her wallet and headed out the door. As she was locking up, she felt the familiar tingle at the back of her neck, and stood frozen, knowing that Owen was watching her.

~~~

Owen was stepping out of the elevator when Stacie came out of the condo across the hall from his. Curiosity overshadowed the happiness and relief he felt in seeing her. Suspicion quickly followed. He had never met the residents across the hall, but had heard from other neighbors in the building that two women lived there, one named Jennifer. The other woman had only recently moved in. No one was sure of her name. Owen’s thoughts turned to another clue, the Jeep Grand Cherokee with the Maine license plate parked in the garage.

The pieces all came together.

And he felt like a damn fool.

“You live there?” he half stated, half asked. He could hardly believe what he was thinking. “This whole time, you’ve been living across the hall.”

Her eyes darted back and forth, probably trying to make sense of why Owen was home at four o’clock on a Tuesday, a time when he was normally at work. He guessed this off-schedule arrival threw off her attempt at deceiving him.

“Owen,” she said with a breathy voice that was nearly a whisper. Under other circumstances, his name on her breath would be an incredible turn on. Right now, in this moment, it stoked his anger.

Owen held out his hand, motioning for her to stop. “Let me make this easy for you,” he snapped. He walked by her, opened his door, and slammed it behind him.

There was a light knock at the door, then a louder one as she pounded harder to get his attention. “Owen,” she called through the metal, “please let me in.” The desperation was apparent in her voice, tempting Owen to open the door and let her stroll back into his life.

No. He wouldn’t let her do that so easily this time.

She knocked again, “Owen, come on, please let me in. I’m ready to talk.”

Owen leaned against the wall next to the door, debating whether to open it. He felt like an idiot. How could he not know that she was living across the hall from him this whole time? How had they not met in the hall before today? Why did she feel it necessary to keep it from him?

He knew the answer to that. Because she kept everything from him. The bathroom was an excuse to sneak out of the pub, and then disappear…to where? He hadn’t seen her in a week. He had been wondering if he would ever see her again. On top of her third amazing disappearing act, and the secret fiancé, she had also gone through his safe. And looked at the back of the painting. He tried to convince himself it wasn’t a big deal, but the truth was, he felt betrayed.

Again. If he played baseball, this would be his third strike. Well, hell, at least he hadn’t knocked her up and married her.

Putting her in the same league as his past failures did nothing to ease the familiar ache in his chest. At work he’d been useless, his mind completely on Stacie and her latest disappearing act and not on any of his duties. Thank God there hadn’t been any security issues. He had picked up extra shifts on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday in hopes that being out of his condo would distract him, but still he hadn’t been worth much.

Today he’d left early because his sister Morgan was flying in at seven thirty and he wanted to get the condo ready for her, get the air mattress set up in the second bedroom. He’d done as Bryan had suggested, leaving even earlier than planned to take some time to pull himself together before Morgan’s arrival. The plan was to take the rest of the week off to spend with his sister, not scouring the city on a desperate search for Stacie.

It was probably best to forget her, get her out of his heart, even though he had been more interested in knocking on every door in the city until he found her. Turned out the magic door was directly across the hall.

Now she was ready to talk. Owen laughed at himself. Those were the words that he had wanted to hear, but was she really ready or was this just another rouse, setting him up for another fall?

In Stacie’s defense, she hadn’t been verbally misleading. Both Kristina and Daphne had lied to him, straight to his face with all the sincerity in the world. Like a fool, he’d believed them.

Of course, he’d known. His instincts prickled with every lie, but that ridiculous hope he’d clung to for too long pushed him to ignore the truth and believe the lies. He’d wanted a family, to prove that he was worthy of loving someone and being loved in return. That he wasn’t like his father.

That hope had betrayed him.

It still lived in him, pumped through his veins with the blood that kept his heart beating. But this time it was in tune with his instincts. For whatever reason, he didn’t think Stacie was playing him. She hadn’t made any promises, and therefore hadn’t broken any.

The problem was, her betrayal was more passive-aggressive. She had led him to believe that she lived somewhere else. He’d also trusted her in his place alone and she had violated that. 

The persistent thump sounded again. “Owen, I’m not leaving. I’ll sit here until you let me in.”

Despite Owen finally having the upper hand, he wasn’t sure how he wanted to play it. He missed her. Part of him wanted to let her in regardless of whether she was going to talk. Another part wanted to make her sweat, just as she had been doing to him.

As the minutes passed, Owen sat against the wall next to the door. He had been hoping for a week to see her again but wasn’t sure what he would say. Maybe he would tell her about Daphne and Hailey. Maybe he would tell her that he loved her.

The painting on the back wall caught his attention. After his discharge from the army, he traveled home to Lafayette. His mother and three sisters still lived there. So did his daughter. The divorce agreement with Daphne was that Owen would have limited visitation with Hailey, but Owen had managed to get Daphne to let Hailey spend afternoons and weekends with him for a couple of weeks before he headed for Seattle. Hailey had always loved to paint, so Owen took her to the art supply store and treated her to a shopping spree. She picked out several pieces of canvas, oil paints, and brushes and Owen picked out an easel for her. The result was this masterpiece.

Owen walked over to the painting and removed it from the hook. He ran his fingers over the words painted on the back. Then he turned his attention to the file safe that now sat on the floor next to the table in the living room. After Stacie’s accusations in the pub a week ago, he knew she had gone through his papers. They were the only evidence of his first divorce.

He went to the safe, now unlocked, and pulled the two displaced folders out to look at them. He had a system and every folder had its place. These two folders had swapped places.

He knew that Stacie must have taken the painting off the wall. It was difficult to hang it straight and he had noticed that it was hanging crooked. He knew that she would have been curious about the writing on the back. He didn’t fault her for that.

Deliberately going through his papers, though, invading his privacy when she wouldn’t tell him anything about herself. That was a betrayal. The displaced folders were evidence of her guilt. Initially, it hadn’t bothered him that much. Would he have resisted the urge to snoop if she had left him alone in her apartment? He wasn’t sure. He longed to know more about her.

Now, knowing she had been living across the hall from him this entire time was troubling. She had deliberately deceived him, leaving the condo every day, aware he was watching from the balcony. He wondered what kind of a woman could be so deceptive. If she wasn’t willing to share more of herself, did he really want to love her?

Could he stop himself?

Owen heard a shuffling against the door and voices in the hall. He looked out the peephole and saw Stacie standing with another woman. He recognized her from the club that night he’d brought Stacie home and assumed it was her roommate Jenny.

~~~

“What’s going on?” Jenny asked. Stacie stood up and stepped away from Owen’s door.

“Owen saw me come out of our condo. He won’t let me in.”

“Can you blame him?” Jenny gave her that annoying I-told-you-so look. Wanting to wipe it off her friend’s face, Stacie suppressed the compulsion and looked towards Owen’s door, wondering if he was watching and listening.

“No,” she said, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “I was finally going to tell him, well, everything. My big, boring story. I was going to tell him about living across the hall. I was going to meet him on the ferry tonight and tell him everything. Everything,” she said with emphasis. “Now my stupid addiction to Frappuccinos has ruined everything.”

Jenny smiled, squeezing her shoulder with a reassuring grasp. “If it’s worth rescuing, then it’ll work out. If it’s not, it’s not the Frappuccino’s fault. How are the headaches?”

“I’m fine right now,” Stacie whispered.

Jenny’s gaze shifted to the door. “Well, he’s probably just making you sweat it out. You deserve that.” Just then Owen opened the door.

“See,” Jenny said and dismissed herself. After unlocking their door, she quickly disappeared, leaving Stacie to face the consequences of her secrets all on her own.