Unbound (Crimson Romance) (2 page)

Bridgett slung her arm around Payten’s shoulders. Whether it was a typical friendly gesture or if she just needed help standing, Payten wasn’t sure.

“That was good, huh?”

Payten poked her in the ribs. “Brat.”

“Seriously though, Payten — ”

“Seriously though, Bridgett,” she mocked. “I’m not interested. In case you haven’t noticed, Hartsville isn’t exactly crawling with eligible, good-looking, decent men.”

“Eligible, good-looking, and decent, huh? Bit high on the standards, aren’t we?”

Payten laughed. “And just because you’ve found the love of your life and blah blah blah doesn’t mean everyone else needs to do the same.”

“You aren’t getting any younger.”

“Britt, I’m twenty-two. Not exactly a spinster. I’ll get there when I get there. It’s not like I have an expiration date.”

“You might,” Bridgett grumbled.

“Name one man worth dating in this town who’s interested in me, Britt.”

“Dean,” she answered instantly.

“Dean?” Payten repeated. “Dean as in Maddie’s cousin Dean? That’s just weird.”

“What? It’s okay for you girls to throw me at Maddie’s brother every chance you got in high school, but not okay for you to hook up with her cousin? What am I missing?”

“Eww.” Payten groaned. “Don’t say hook up. That’s just — No. And, Jack was different.”

“Yeah,” Bridgett agreed. “Brother, not cousin. See the difference?”

Payten nearly sighed with relief as they turned the last corner before her house. One short street left then she could bail on this conversation.

“Britt, could we please talk about something else?”

“I’m just saying. Dean is a really sweet guy. You better jump on it before someone else does.”

“Hmm,” Payten muttered noncommittally.

“Speaking of, I hear Jack’s with Kayla again.”

“I hear that, but no confirmation from him yet,” she replied, grateful for the change in subject.

“Why Kayla? I don’t get it,” Britt complained. “She’s such a — ”

“Slut,” they finished together before erupting into laughter.

That laughter carried them the remaining few steps to Payten’s porch. Bridgett passed her the purse she’d been forced to carry.

“Heavy thing,” she teased.

Payten frowned. “It’s your fault.” She dug to the bottom in search of her keys. “I don’t know why I like the damn thing. I can’t even find my keys. If I had some light — ”

She stopped suddenly and glanced toward the porch light. Off. She always left the porch light on if she wasn’t going to be home until after dark. Her hand fisted around the strap of her purse.

She glanced at Bridgett. Not any help at all, she merely shrugged. When Payten looked back at the door, it suddenly flung open.

“Surprise!”

Payten screamed and threw her purse into the mass of dark figures standing in her foyer. The porch light flipped on and blinded her. She stumbled back, bumping into Bridgett and almost causing her to trip back down the stairs to the small porch.

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

The declaration came from the back of the group. The familiar voice pierced through her surprise.

“Quinn?” She stopped moving away. “What the hell are you doing in my house?”

Quinn stepped forward into the light. “We wanted to surprise you. I told them to wait until you were inside, but somebody — ” She paused to glare over her shoulder at another of the shadows. “ — couldn’t wait.”

Someone turned on the foyer light. Payten could see the rest of the girls standing inside her door. Her girls. Quinn, Maddie, Ryleigh, and Andie. All four of them were waiting to surprise her with Bridgett leading her home.

“I couldn’t wait,” Maddie blurted. “I’m just so excited!”

“What’s the surprise?” Payten asked.

“Well, it won’t be a surprise when we all die of pneumonia,” Andie sneered from the back of the group.

“Still a bitch, I see.” Payten stepped inside with Bridgett falling in line after her.

“Let me — I need to — This isn’t — ” She looked around the crowded foyer. She and Bridgett had stepped inside and closed the door, but nobody had moved out of the foyer. She felt like a sardine.

“Everybody to the living room,” she ordered. “I’ll get my coat off and meet you there.”

The women left for the living room, all except Bridgett.

“What?” Payten asked, pulling off her coat and hanging on the coat tree.

“Promise me you’ll think about what I said.”

“About Dean?”

“Yeah,” Bridgett said. “Just consider it.”

Scooping her purse off the floor and setting it on the small table across from the door, she nodded. “I’ll try. But only for you.”

Britt grinned. “Thanks. Let’s go see the horde.”

She smiled back and followed her into the chaos of her once-peaceful living room. Her girls always managed to stir things up when they came home.

Chapter Two

He lay quietly in his bed. So much to do. Everything was finally falling in place. All his planning, all his hard work, had paid off. The excitement bubbled in his chest. It made his mood so light he felt he could fly.

Instead he lay still, the rise and fall of his chest with each breath his only movement. Discipline carried him this far. It would carry him the rest of the way.

With his eyes closed, he summoned up an image of the ceiling above him. He knew every crack, every spot, and every pock. After all, the ceiling belonged to him. He never gave up what belonged to him.

His darling stepson had made that mistake once. The boy learned his lesson.

Slowly,
he told himself as he worked to regulate his breathing.
One, two, three. Breathe. One, two, three. Release.
The boy would get his soon.

His stepson’s punishment had been fine at the time. Now, so many years later, he deserved more. The little bastard deserved something far worse.

As he switched to counting the bricks of his walls, he felt the smile that split his narrow face. He finally had the means to accomplish his goals, and he couldn’t wait to put it to use. The sound of his laughter — rusty even to himself — echoed in the room.

Chapter Three

Payten bit back a yawn. Leaning against the counter in the diner, she felt dead on her feet. Because of the New Year’s Celebration the night before, bedtime hadn’t come for her until after three. Her parents had bailed right after the fireworks for their annual anniversary trip, leaving her to open the diner at seven.

She stayed at her spot behind the counter as she watched sleepy looking people trickle into the diner. It would be another half an hour before she started serving breakfast, but already the crowd was better than she’d expected after last night.

The New Year’s Celebration had been a huge success. Despite the freezing temperatures, the estimated turnout for the fireworks was well over five hundred people. In a town with a population of less than four hundred, it was impressive.

Vendors had sold everything from handmade scarves and hats to cocoa mix in pretty jars to homemade candles. Hartsville’s Volunteer Fire Department had served the food for the event. The volunteers struggled to keep up with orders of hot chocolate, coffee, cinnamon rolls, and potato soup until the fireworks began at midnight.

Thinking about it, she reminded herself she needed to send a note to Wade, the fire department’s chief, thanking him for volunteering to set off the fireworks. She would also need to thank the other volunteers who had helped Wade. She decided to stop by their meeting Tuesday night with a couple of pies. The firemen had a weakness for her apple pie.

She would also need to send cards to each of the vendors who had rented a booth and each of the volunteers who had helped set up the booths. She would need to visit the high school’s FFA Club to thank them for handling the event’s parking. The local Boy Scout and Girl Scout troops would need to be thanked for cleaning up the park after the celebration. She could probably get away with brownies for the little monsters.

She would have to visit the police department, as well. Despite the usual New Year’s Eve madness, Chief Whitley had managed to keep two officers at the park throughout the night. Of course, Dean had been one of them. That was just her luck.

Payten wanted to throw something at Bridgett. Something big. Ever since their conversation about him, she hadn’t been able to stop noticing him. On mornings he was at the diner, she found herself sitting at the round table amongst him and the crowd on her breaks instead of doing something useful in the kitchen. She had even gone out of her way several days ago to sit beside him by directing Ms. Clarke to a different seat.

And, Lord knows, she’ll have something to say about that. Nosy old biddy.

Yesterday, Dean caught her rolling her eyes over some tidbit of gossip shared at the table. He’d winked at her. She could have sworn she felt her stomach hit the floor.

She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of that thought. One wink from an attractive man was not enough to catch her attention, she told herself. After all, she wasn’t some inexperienced ninny. She knew how good-looking men spent their weekends. Hell, she was best friends with Kalvin the Manwhore.

She told herself that twenty-two-year-old women did not have crushes. It wasn’t rational. She was not going to turn into a simpering idiot just because he winked at her.

She sighed.
If that were true, you wouldn’t be standing here watching for him to come in.

“I need more coffee, Patty.”

Payten glared at the old man calling to her. Fletcher Morris was the bane of her existence.

A little dramatic?
She thought about it.
Probably, but I’m tired and dramatic is allowed.

At the very least, Fletcher was a pain in the ass, one she was in no mood to deal with. She had not had enough sleep to cope with his demands.

She glanced around the diner. The round table was full, and every booth had people sitting in it. She wanted to cry. She wanted to crawl under the counter and take a nap.

“Patty!”

“Got it,” someone announced.

Dean stepped up behind Fletcher, coffee pot in hand. He clapped a hand on the older man’s shoulder and poured the coffee with the other.

Christ, the man was her hero. And, a damn good looking one at that. She had been told Dean’s great-grandfather had married an Indian woman. The woman had certainly left her stamp on the Whitley family.

Dean’s black hair fell over the collar of his flannel shirt. The copper tan of his skin made her, a red-haired, freckle-faced girl, jealous. The deep brown of his eyes seemed almost black. With high cheekbones, the square line of his jaw helped to balance the angles of his face. Several inches taller than her own five foot nine inches, he was lean without leaning more toward lanky.

Studying him across the diner, she felt like she was looking at him for the first time. She was attracted to Dean. Genuinely attracted. When had that happened? It wasn’t like his looks had changed overnight. Was it because what Bridgett had said had opened her eyes? How had she missed it? She’d known Dean all her life.

“How you doing, Mr. Morris?” Dean asked the elderly man.

“I’d be better if I could get a cup of coffee,” Fletcher grumbled.

Dean gave his shoulder a light shake. “You know where the pot is. Same place it’s been for the last forty-odd years.”

“Are you sassing me, Doug?” Fletcher snarled.

“No, sir.” Dean turned away, hiding a grin from Fletcher. He put the pot back on its burner. “How about those fireworks last night?”

That got the conversation rolling again at the round table. Unnoticed, Dean sat down on a stool at the counter in front of Payten.

“Where’s Cooper?” he asked.

She turned to look back at the kitchen as if that would make Cooper suddenly appear. “Running late,” she answered. “Mary Beth was having a come-apart.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “The woman is eight and a half months pregnant. She’s allowed to come apart.”

“Poor Mary Beth is more like nine and a half months pregnant.”

“Dean!” She reached across the counter to smack his shoulder.

“Awful, I know.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Me? I thought we were still talking about Mary Beth.”

“Dean!”

He chuckled and held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll behave now.”

“You better,” she warned, “or I’ll put you to work since I seem to be a cook short.”

“Do you need any help until Coop shows up?” he asked. “I’m not doing anything.”

Payten checked the clock. Seven-fifty. “I don’t want to intrude on your day.”

“What’s a couple hours?” he offered. “Besides, I don’t have anything better to do.”

“Oh, thanks. You sound real excited there,” she teased.

He managed to look a little ashamed. “Sorry. Do you need me to help?”

“Well…” She hated to ask, but she knew she couldn’t cook and serve. Not with the number of people there were waiting and not with as little sleep as she’d had. “If you could — ”

She heard the back door slam as Cooper came in. “Brrr! It’s cold out there.”

Payten turned slightly so she could see him as he came into view. Cooper was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt very similar to Dean. She didn’t want to take Cooper out of his, though.
Thank God.

Cooper’s blond hair stuck out wildly from under his stocking cap. There was snow on his boots and the bottoms of his jeans were wet from the snow.

“Didn’t think you needed a jacket?” Dean asked.

“I was in a hurry. As soon as Mary Beth’s mother showed up, I was out the door,” he told them. “She was on the warpath this morning.”

He grabbed a clean apron out of the pantry and disappeared back into the part of the kitchen not visible from the dining room.

She turned back to Dean. “Guess I should go take orders.”

• • •

Dean watched Payten as she started for the dining room. He thought she was moving slowly. Thinking about last night’s celebration, it didn’t surprise him. Payten had moved people through their paces without them even realizing they were being lead. Vendors, volunteers, and visitors all fell in line and jumped to do anything she asked.