The shrill cry of a gull woke Aspen. She opened her eyes, blinked against the brightness of the master bedroom as the sleepy fog cleared from her mind. What time was it? She vaguely remembered Bowie leaving hours earlier with a kiss on her forehead and a hand smoothing over her hair as faint light spilled through the window.
She missed him already. This was the farthest thing from casual she’d ever felt, and that made this even crazier. They barely knew each other. And given what he’d told her last night, she didn’t want to scare him off by getting too serious too fast. But damn, she’d never met anyone like him, and the sex was unbelievable.
She climbed out of bed and took a hot shower, tendrils of excitement curling inside her as she thought about Bowie. For the first time since coming here, it felt like she was where she was supposed to be.
After a quick breakfast of tea and a leftover piece of banoffee pie—she’d never look at it again and not think of Bowie—she worked on painting the old end table she’d bought. Partway through the second coat of chalk paint, she glanced up at the sound of footsteps coming up the side walkway. Her heart immediately picked up speed, thinking it might be Bowie, but no, he’d still be at work.
Sinbad started barking next door, then the metal lid on her metal mailbox squeaked at the side of the house, and the footsteps retreated. She put down her paintbrush and washed her hands, hoping her business license might have arrived.
Sinbad was still barking as she went outside and grabbed her mail. The business license was there, along with some bills…and an unsealed, unmarked envelope. She flicked it open to take a look, and found some folded papers inside.
Setting the rest of her mail on the kitchen table, she pulled out the contents of her unmarked envelope. Her insides tightened when she saw the printed news articles about her accident. One showed the totaled car she’d been driving, along with a gorgeous picture of Natalie’s smiling face.
Local Socialite Killed in Horrific Accident.
Her mind instantly transported her back to that night.
They were heading to what was going to be the biggest party of the summer. She remembered the exact song that had been playing on the radio, the way the beat mixed with the rhythm of the wipers on the windshield, and the sound of Nat’s laughter just before rounding that final curve on the darkened highway.
The sudden expression of horror on Nat’s face, and looking up to see the other car crossing the centerline toward them. The high-pitched squeal of the tires as she wrenched the wheel to avoid being hit head on.
Seeing the back of the white trailer as they hurtled toward it. And Nat’s bloodcurdling scream a moment before they hit it.
Her fingers were numb as she pulled out of the memory and forced herself to read the next page. Tragedy on Coastal Highway Kills Popular Sacramento Resident.
Her eyes skipped to the end of the article.
Natalie Bridger’s best friend was behind the wheel. Bridger died at the scene, while her best friend and the other driver were released after being taken to the hospital for observation. Speed and alcohol were believed to be contributing factors in the fatal crash.
She swallowed, nausea washing over her in a wave. Then she made herself flip to the final page and read the ominous, single typed line on it.
I know what you did. And I heard you had another accident the other day. Driving drunk again?
Cold speared her like a blade. She dropped the papers on the table like they’d burned her and lifted her trembling hand to her mouth, her mind reeling.
Who had sent this? No one here should have known about her past, but someone had put it in her mailbox or given it to the mail carrier. She’d only just told Bowie about the accident last night, and there was no way he would have told anyone.
The chill inside her spread, raising goosebumps along her skin. Whoever had sent it had wanted to hurt and frighten her, and the threat underlying it was implied. That whoever it was knew where she lived. And they could easily ruin her reputation again before she’d even had a chance to get established here.
She could only think of one person who hated her enough to want to ruin her new life.
Steven.
She sucked in a strained breath and retreated into her kitchen, pausing to stare out the window above the sink while her mind raced and fear twisted her insides. Had Steven found her? Did he have something to do with her cut brake lines?
He was desperate. Furious that she’d inherited Harry’s estate. Angry enough to put her through more hell. And that note had been hand-delivered, not mailed. So either he’d had someone drop it off, or…
He could be here in Kill Devil Hills.
She turned and fled up the stairs, yanking the master bedroom door shut before huddling up on her bed, panic clawing at her. Was she safe here anymore? She had no way of knowing for sure if Steven was behind the note, but she didn’t see how it could be anyone else. She hadn’t been here long enough to make any enemies, so it had to be someone back in Cali, and Steven was the only person who stood out.
Nausea swept through her at the thought of him following her here, taunting her. Her instinct was to hide, but she’d already crossed the damn country to get away from him, so where else was she supposed to go if he’d found her?
As soon as she thought it, a wave of red-hot anger obliterated the idea of running. She was sick of running, from her past and from Steven. Sick of his threats and bullying. Of him trying to bleed her dry by dragging out his ridiculous lawsuits, and doing everything in his power to ruin her life.
She’d just started over here, had begun to start fresh. She liked it here. And she was already attached to an incredible man who’d captured a big chunk of her heart.
Automatically she reached for her phone and pulled up Bowie’s number, then hesitated.
She didn’t have any proof who’d sent the note. Steven might be a bully, but he was also a coward. If he’d done this, he’d probably had someone drop it off for him. Also, Bowie was at work and dealing with enough of his own shit right now, struggling to move on after losing Theresa and blaming himself for her death.
The last thing Aspen wanted was to add her drama to his life, and she was worried he’d drop her when he found out about this. Harper could have been seriously hurt when the brakes failed, and this proved the incident was almost certainly to target her, not Harper. He was incredibly protective of his sister. If he thought she was a danger to Harper, he would cut contact.
That thought made her feel even worse. They hadn’t even established what was happening with them. Whether they were together and starting a relationship, or if this was just for fun. She wanted a relationship with him, but he might not be ready for that, and she had to be prepared if he didn’t.
She ordered herself to get a grip. To calm down and think. She wasn’t running, and she wasn’t going to hide. It was time she stood her ground and refused to back down just because someone was out to scare her.
This was her problem. Her mess. Whatever happened, she needed to deal with it herself.
After giving herself a stern talking to, the fear and panic receded. Sitting there listening to the waves outside, she thought of Bowie. She had to tell him and be prepared for him to cut ties with her after this.
She grabbed her phone and called him, but it went to voicemail. No surprise, since he was working. She started to type out a simple text message instead, then stopped.
Dammit. She’d felt so incredible with him last night, so free and safe. Now everything seemed uncertain and she was second guessing herself at every turn, dreading his reaction.
She shook her head at herself, sent a simple Need to talk to you when you get a chance. Hope you’re having a good day, then got up and went back downstairs.
Whoever had sent that envelope wasn’t going to make her cower or change her plans in any way. She had a project to finish, and then more work on her food truck plan. Bowie would see her message whenever he checked his phone. If he called back, she’d have to tell him the truth and take whatever consequence came her way.
****
After work that night Bowie walked into his house and went straight up to his room to shower, standing under the hot spray as the water sluiced over him, washing away the sweat of a long day. Too long, if he was honest.
He could’ve been home hours ago. He could’ve left that last project until tomorrow, when he’d originally scheduled it for.
Except all day he’d been thinking of Aspen. Of what they’d shared last night. Of the way she’d opened up to him and then given him the best sex of his life. The way she’d looked this morning, curled up on her side tucked into his body, like she belonged there.
He should have been walking on air all day, dying to finish work so he could see her again. And he had been.
But he’d also been afraid.
He groaned and rested his forehead against the slick shower wall. She’d called him this morning and left a message. He’d texted her back but hadn’t called her yet. Because he didn’t know what the hell to say to her or what was going to happen from here.
The water pounded against his back, numbing his skin. He was already in way deeper with her than he’d expected to be this soon. Too deep, too fast. He needed time to think, to be sure he was ready to make the kind of commitment to her she deserved before things went any farther.
After pulling on fresh clothes, he went downstairs. Harper was in the kitchen, and whatever she was making smelled awesome. She pulled a sheet pan of bacon out of the oven and shot him a smile over her shoulder. “Perfect timing. I was just gonna make myself a toasted BLT. Want one?”
He hadn’t eaten all day, too busy keeping himself occupied with work. “Love one.”
While she made the sandwiches, he got them both a beer and got out the plates, grateful for the respite from tormenting himself about Aspen. They sat across the kitchen table from each other, and the quiet was noticeable right away.
“Feels weird with Chase being gone now, huh?” Harper said.
“Yeah.” That had been bothering him too. His brother being off to another movie shoot, and not knowing when they’d see each other next. Bowie had loved having the three of them home together, even for a short time.
“He’ll be back when he can.”
He nodded and took his first bite of the sandwich. It was amazing as always. Crunchy, toasted multigrain bread, fresh lettuce, crisp, thick-cut bacon, fat slices of ripe tomato, and a generous layer of tangy mayo.
Harper took a bite of hers, watching him thoughtfully as she chewed. Bowie could see she had something on her mind and braced himself for whatever she was about to say.
He didn’t have to wait long to find out what was on her mind. “You took the stained-glass down,” she said.
He looked down at his plate. “Yeah.”
“What did you do with it?”
“Left it on her parents’ porch.”
“Good for you.”
Surprised at the vehemence in his sister’s tone, he looked up at her.
She nodded firmly. “I mean it, and I’m proud of you, because I know that must have been hard.”
It had actually been easier than he’d thought it would be. And that meant he should have done it long before he had. “Figured it was time.”
“I agree. Past time. I’m guessing they didn’t send a thank you message?”
“No, but I didn’t expect them to.” They would treasure the piece, Theresa would like knowing they had it, and that’s all that mattered.
“What made you do it?”
He finished the last bite of his first half of the sandwich. “Just seemed right.”
“Ah. And it had nothing to do with Aspen?”
He met her eyes, gave her a long stare. “No.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Liar. You don’t think I noticed you didn’t come home last night?”
He flushed, he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t expected Harper to say anything about it and didn’t know how to respond.
Harper laughed. “For God’s sake, Bow, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I like her. In fact, I think she’s pretty fantastic. And I think you like her a lot too.”
He did. That was the problem. “She’s great.” He picked up the other half of his sandwich, wishing he could shift the conversation. Talking about his private life with his little sister was damn uncomfortable.
Harper studied him. “But?”
Hell. He sighed and decided to just be honest, or she’d never give this up. “But things are moving too fast.”
Instead of arguing, she nodded, her eyes full of empathy. “You don’t trust it. I didn’t with Pete either. But it turned out to be right in the end. Short, but right, and now I wish I hadn’t dragged my feet for as long as I did. And that’s why I don’t want you to waste a single day that you two could be together.”
“It’s…complicated.”
“No, it’s really not. If you want her and she wants you, what are you waiting for?”
Because I’m afraid.
He cringed inside as the thought formed. He’d rather suffer torture than admit that to her or anyone else. But fuck yeah, that’s what it was.
He was afraid of losing his heart to Aspen. Of having her depend on him. Of being unable to protect her when she needed it. Of failing her on every level one day, just like he had with Theresa.
It had happened to him once already. He couldn’t go through it again.
“Bow.”
He withheld a sigh and forced himself to meet his sister’s gaze, tamping down his impatience—more aimed at himself than her.
“You need to stop punishing yourself for what happened to Theresa.”
Hell. Leave it to her to get to the heart of the matter. “I know. I’m trying.”
She reached across the table to grasp his hand. “Good. Because you’ve sacrificed too much of your life for everyone else already.”
He drew his head back, stunned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t think Chase and I recognize what you gave up for us?”
“That’s got nothing to do with—”
“You gave up the football scholarship you’d busted your ass to earn, and the full ride to the University of North Carolina you’d been dreaming about your whole life. You gave them both up, along with your future, for us.”
He squeezed her hand, hating that she would blame herself for any part of that. “And I’d do it all again. In a fucking heartbeat,” he added, his pulse quickening. “You think I’d let them split us up? That I’d let them take you both away from me when we were all we had left?”
A sheen of tears filled her eyes. “No. Never. And both of us will love you forever for it.” She blinked, drew in a breath and forced a smile. “But now? We want to see you be happy. We want to see you live again.” She withdrew her hand, stood, and kissed the top of his head on her way out of the room.
Her words ran through his head long after he’d cleaned up the kitchen and she’d gone upstairs to bed. As he rinsed the dishes, he allowed himself to think back to that scary, uncertain time after their dad had died, when it seemed like he would lose everything he’d ever cared about.
He’d stepped up then. Done the right thing. Because he’d been the head of the family. Because he was no coward.
Yet he was acting like a fucking coward now. Had been for years, shutting himself off from the world after Theresa died.
The realization pissed him off.
He grabbed his phone to call Aspen, then thought better of it. Even if things were moving so fast it scared him, what he felt for her was real. And their connection was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
What she’d said about learning to forgive himself was true. It was time. He was done letting the past rule him.
He snagged his keys and strode out the door, urgency and raw possessiveness flooding him at the thought of seeing Aspen minutes from now.