Jillian Cory
Chapter Nineteen
Now
Bailey was standing on his porch wearing a pair of mid-thigh, white deck shorts, a navy-and-white-striped tank top, and a Kelly green cardigan. Her shoes were white deck shoes, and he took his time looking at every inch of her. He didn’t care that she was nervous, and given the fidgeting movements of her hands as she stood in front of him, she was most definitely that, if not downright frightened. He was a bit terrified too. What the hell did he know about employing someone? For that matter, what the hell did he know about employing someone he professed to hate with a vengeance for killing his sister—they didn’t make instruction manuals for such things.
Macy broke the tension when she bounded out the door, practically pummeling Bailey’s small frame to the ground. Well, Macy obviously didn’t share his attitude toward the woman. She scratched Macy’s ears as Macy’s entire body wiggled and wagged. He just watched. It was odd having her in his home the one other time he’d brought her here; now he was going to have to cope with it nearly every day. It was just as odd seeing his dog, who would literally climb inside his body to be closer to Darren if she could, making nice with Bailey. Hell, if a dog could like her, couldn’t he?
“Hi.” She righted her posture and widened her stance as Macy continued to push into her thighs, threatening to push her over.
“Come in.” He knew saying hi to her in response would be more appropriate, but it was amazing the simple words he couldn’t seem to utter to her. He turned, and she followed him into his entryway. He picked up the spare key from the entryway table and handed it to her. “You’ll need this.” And then he continued toward the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee, and he reached into the cupboard for another coffee cup for her as well, letting her pour her own.
He spent the next fifteen minutes showing her where the cleaning supplies were, how to start the washer, dryer, and dishwasher, and where Macy’s food and toys were. His house was immaculate thanks to the cleaning lady he’d just fired the day before so he had an excuse to employ Bailey. There was actually little for her to do at the moment other than entertain his dog, which was thankfully a full-time job in and of itself.
Her eyes took in everything around her, and he studied her as she studied his life. She blushed when she looked at his bed. He knew her blush, and she couldn’t ever hide it. He also knew she hated just how transparent it made her to people. When she caught him looking at her, the blush darkened to an incredible crimson. He was caught with a smirk on his face, and when she noticed the subtle lift of his lips, she looked away shyly. A sudden rush of arousal passed like a wave through his body, and rather than fight it in front of her, he turned and left the room.
“This is a twelve-hour shift for me, so I won’t be home until seven this evening. You don’t have to stay that long if you don’t want. As long as you’re here until midafternoon, Macy will be fine. Same goes for the mornings. If you’re not able to be here when I leave, it’ll be fine. Midmorning is good enough. I’ll leave a note if there’s anything in particular that needs to be done, otherwise, just use your best judgment.” He paused midstride at the irony of that statement, but then regaining himself, he continued back to the kitchen.
He sat at the large kitchen island to finish his coffee, and he checked his emails. She sat across from him, and he fought to focus on reading and not on her. “Darren.” Apparently concentrating just wasn’t going to happen. He looked up. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
He closed the laptop and stood from the counter, emptying his coffee cup in the sink before he turned back to her. “Make sure you keep track of your hours. I work anywhere from four to six days a week, depending on scheduling. I’ll post my work schedule on the refrigerator tonight, so you know when you’re expected, and I’ll pay you once a week. Like I said, you don’t have to be here first thing in the morning or when I get home at night. As long as Macy is taken care of and the house is clean, I don’t much need anything else.” He left without another word to her.
He might have blown her off that morning, and pretty much every other time he’d seen her lately, but it didn’t mean he could stop thinking about her. That was the worst part about it. He literally couldn’t go five minutes without thinking about her in some respect or another. Sometimes the image of her face floated through his mind. Other times memories from years ago popped up. It was always distracting . . . and it was always intense too.
When he left the hospital, he found himself driving faster than he ought to. He hadn’t told her she had to leave before he got home, only that she could if she wanted. He had no idea if she’d still be there or not when he arrived home, and for some damn reason, he wanted her to be. She was staying, and he didn’t have to fear her running away anymore, but it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. He wanted her to be there, and when he pulled into his driveway and her charming little fat tire bike with its cute woven basket was gone, he was disappointed.
She didn’t have a cell phone that he knew of, but it didn’t take him long to find the phone number of her cottage thanks to information. “How was Macy?” Again he’d failed to give her any sort of proper greeting. He was using those little refusals to punish her, and he knew she wasn’t missing his little passive-aggressiveness. He also hated that he was acting like such a dick.
“She was good. She’s a happy dog.”
“Yes, she is.” He said nothing for a moment, and she waited for him to continue. “Uh . . . do you still run?”
“Yeah, not as much as I used to. I’m out of practice, but I try to do a couple miles a few days a week.”
“There are a lot of good running trails through the woods and around the lake. I’ll be home earlier tomorrow night. If you bring your running shoes, I’ll show you how to get to the trails. Macy enjoys it, and she can go forever.”
She was silent for a moment, and his heart pounded in his chest. “Yeah. That sounds great. Thanks, Darren.”
“Yeah.” He apparently no longer said you’re welcome either.
“Good night, Darren.” She didn’t wait for him to respond. She knew better at this point.
Chapter Twenty
Two Years Before
“I’m so sorry for everything you’ve endured, Darren. I am more sorry than you will likely ever know. So, please take no offense now when I say that you will leave my daughter in peace when she comes home.” Daniel’s complexion was pale and sallow, and his voice was weak. His words, however, were strong and full of conviction, regardless of how frail his body appeared. “I will not be here to protect her, and I will not go to my grave knowing she is to be tormented by someone she cares so much for. I am a parent just like your own, who loves his daughter just as yours do. She has suffered enough, and you will not make that worse for her. If you hate her, hate her—just do it from a distance. You let her live her life. I assure you, she will suffer plenty at her own hands.” Daniel’s hands trembled as he rested them on his stomach, and his whole body seemed to relax painfully back into the hospital bed once he was finished speaking.
Darren was now sitting outside Bailey’s father’s hospital room. The words were still echoing through his mind, though it had been nearly an hour since they’d been spoken to him. Daniel had asked for him. He’d been admitted, and there was little hope he’d be going home this time. Darren was still shocked when his nurse paged him to the room.