by Sophie Oak
“Cade?” Gemma was insistent.
“He’s fine, baby. He’s just fine.” Jesse looked back at his best friend. Cade so obviously wasn’t fine, but there was not a thing Jesse could do about it now. Cade was supposed to find Gemma, keep her safe. Not place her in more danger. He should have been carrying her out to Ty’s truck, not starting a fight.
Nate looked over at Caleb. “You want to take a look at these two, Doc?”
Caleb just flipped Nate the finger as he charged out the door.
Nate sighed. “Jesse, you tell Ty to come to the station house when he gets a chance. I think they’re fine, but someone should look them both over.”
Cade’s eyes met Jesse’s just before he walked out the door. Pure and utter misery was plain on his bloody face. He didn’t fight as Cam cuffed his hands behind his back and started reading him his rights.
Jesse turned because he couldn’t help Cade now. He had to think of Gemma.
His choice had been made the night before. She was his woman. He would share her with his friend, but he would never put her second.
He handed her over to Caleb and hopped in the truck as Cam hauled Cade out and started walking toward the sheriff’s office.
“Jesse?”
“I’m here, baby. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
As Ty took off, lights flashing, Jesse worried for the first time that this wouldn’t work out. And he had no idea how to fix it.
* * * *
Cade let the cell door shut behind him, utter misery washing over him. What the hell had happened? One minute he’d been terrified about Gemma and the next Cam Briggs was pulling him off Asshole Lawyer and shoving him into handcuffs.
Laura Niles sighed and walked up to the cell with a wet cloth in her hands. “Come here. Let me take a look at that. Rafe, will you get me some ice? Please tell me Cam didn’t do this to you.”
He let her wipe the blood off though he didn’t think he deserved anyone’s tender care. “No. Asshole got in a lucky punch. Are they going to book me?”
The station doors opened again, and Nate hauled in Patrick Welch. The lawyer looked terrible, his formerly pristine clothes a bloody mess. His hands were cuffed behind his back, and he was talking as fast as he could.
“Do you have any idea who I am? You fucking small-town idiots. Do you know what I’m going to do to this town? When I’m done, there won’t be a goddamn town. I will bury this place. I am going to slap you with a lawsuit the likes of which you’ve never seen. Have you ever even heard the term false arrest?”
Nate opened the cell door, giving the lawyer a wide-eyed look. “Now, they might have covered something about that in small-town idiot school. But I never did too well in school, son. That’s how I ended up a sheriff. Ain’t much learning needed here.”
Nate was fucking with the lawyer. Why? Cade had no idea because he’d started the fight.
“Sheriff, you should let him go,” Cade said. The lawyer had been a jerk, worrying about how Gemma looked instead of whether or not she was alive, but he hadn’t started the fight.
“Shut your mouth, son,” Nate warned.
“You should listen to him, Sheriff. He’s the only one talking with any intelligence.” Patrick sat down on the small cot and wiped at his mouth, a sullen expression on his face. “It won’t help you. I intend to sue you for everything you’re worth, you piece of shit.”
Cade stared out at the office. Cam was already writing up a report. And he had no idea how Gemma was because he’d been an asshole who couldn’t control his temper. And as for Patrick taking everything he was worth, well, he wasn’t worth much. He was worth way less than he’d been about an hour ago.
“Do you know how she is?” Cade asked quietly.
Laura stepped up. “I talked to Ty on the radio. Gemma’s stats are good. Her heart rate is steady and she’s breathing just fine. Jesse’s with her. Caleb is taking her to the hospital, but he thinks she just needs some rest and steroids. He’s going to keep a close watch on her. Ty’s coming back here to take a look at you.”
He didn’t want any damn medical attention. He just wanted to sit and rot in the cell and think about what the hell he was doing. He should never have gotten involved. He knew better. He knew what happened when he loved someone. He fucked up and they got hurt.
Gemma almost died. She would never have been in Stella’s without her purse if it hadn’t been for him.
The station doors opened, and Stef Talbot strode in along with his wife, Jennifer. The rumor was Jennifer Talbot was pregnant, but Cade couldn’t tell. The artist looked slender and lovely, following her husband who seemed deeply agitated. Stef Talbot, who some around town called the King of Bliss, wore jeans and a Western shirt, but that didn’t make him an ordinary cowpoke. Stef had power, and he didn’t mind wielding it.
“Does someone want to tell me why my stepmother is crying and trying to tally up the damage to her place of business?”
Cade opened his mouth to talk, and Nate sent him a nasty look.
“I told you not to talk, son.”
Stef stalked his way. “Did you do this, Sinclair?”
Patrick piped up. “He sure as hell did, and I’m going to sue him.”
Jen took a long look at the man in the other cell. “Babe, why don’t we get the whole story before you try to take Cade apart? He’s a damn fine mechanic. We need those around here. The snowmobile is busted.”
“I don’t give a damn about the snowmobile,” he said, never taking those angry eyes off Cade.
Cade was kind of happy for the bars between them.
Jen came up and whispered something in her husband’s ear that had him flushing. He turned back to her. “Are you serious?”
She shrugged and gave him a half smile. “Rach says it works really well. I thought we could get some happy fun time in before I get too big.”
His hand strayed briefly at her belly before he turned back to Cade. “Fine. Talk. You have two minutes before I throw you out of my town.”
“Just do it, Talbot. I was going to leave anyway.” The look in Jesse’s eyes had made that decision for him. Disappointment. Anger. Regret. All directed his way. At least one of them was there for Gemma.
Holly walked up, brushing the hair out of her face and passing Cade an ice pack. “Put that on your lip. It’s swelling. Stef, according to Hal, who I just talked to, Cade was upset because Gemma nearly died from anaphylaxis because this guy over here was eating strawberries in front of her. She’s got a terrible allergy to strawberries. I called her mom, and she’s on her way to the hospital.”
Stef turned to Patrick. “Did you know she’s allergic?”
Patrick didn’t bother to look ashamed. “I’m not taking the blame for this. I like strawberries. They’re a super food. I’m not going to eschew them because Gemma has a problem. It was her fault. She should have been more careful. Come to think of it, it was that dumb bimbo café owner’s fault because she only brought one fork. I’ll have to see about suing her, too.”
Stef Talbot nearly grew fangs and claws. His eyes narrowed. “Nathan.”
“Already on it. I have witnesses coming in to give their reports,” Nate explained.
“Thank god, you’re getting one thing right,” Patrick complained. “I’ll want copies of everything.”
“I’ll make sure you have them. According to all the witnesses I talked to, you started the fight, Mr. Welch. Now, why would you do that? Is it because you found out your ex-fiancée is involved with Mr. Sinclair?”
Jen grinned, her arm going around Stef’s waist. “See, babe, told you Nate would handle it. You’re not the only manipulative son of a bitch in the world.”
Stef sighed, a satisfied sound. “Excellent. Nathan, let me know if you need anything. Talbot resources are completely available to you. And you. Think twice before you go after that bimbo café owner. She’s Stella Talbot, wife of Sebastian Talbot and my mother in every sense of the word. You might think you’re the big-time fuck
ing lawyer out here in the sticks, but I promise you that stick will hurt when I shove it up your ass, and no amount of New York City lawyers will be able to get it out.”
Jen gave Cade a wink. “Come out to the estate when you get a chance and take a look at the snowmobile. Bye, Cade. Tell Gemma we’re all thinking of her and to expect the casseroles to start showing up at her place tomorrow. I promise no strawberries. Unfortunately, I can’t promise the same of tofu.”
They walked out the door, leaving Cade more confused than ever.
Patrick went a little green. “As in Talbot Industries?”
Nate leaned against Gemma’s desk. “One and the same. And in case you want to go after the doc for not seeing to that tiny bruise Sinclair gave you, you should know his birth name is Caleb Sommerville. Yes, those Sommervilles.”
“The senator from Illinois?” Patrick practically gulped the question.
“Is his brother,” Nate explained. “Now, do you still want to sue this town for everything it’s worth?”
It seemed Bliss was worth way more than Patrick Welch thought it was and he backed off. “I think we can all agree this was a terrible misunderstanding.”
“I thought you might see it that way. Cam, you can stop. I think we’re all going to agree to walk away from this.”
Cam stopped typing. “Thank god. I hate paperwork. I’m going to call and see how Gemma is and when we can see her.”
Ten minutes later he was free, but no one could let him out of the prison he’d put himself in.
Cade walked to the Trading Post, bought what he needed, and got his bike and a few things from the apartment he shared with Jesse. He went to Gemma’s. The cabin was silent where hours before it had been full of life.
He worked until long past twilight. His cell phone was depressingly silent. He sat down on Gemma’s couch and waited.
Chapter Fourteen
“You okay back there?” her mom asked, her neck craning around.
“I’m fine, Mom.” Gemma looked out the window of her mom’s sedan. Utter blackness stared back at her. She’d never seen darkness the way it was here in Bliss. The road thudded beneath her, and she wondered where Cade was.
Jesse’s arm settled around her, pulling her close. His scruffy cheek rubbed against the top of her head. She felt him kiss her hair.
When she’d woken up, Jesse had been right there. He hadn’t left her side the whole time. He’d completely and blatantly lied to everyone, telling the staff that he was her husband so he couldn’t be cut out of the loop. Caleb and Ty had gone along with it.
Gemma was surprised at how much comfort he’d given her. She’d been alone for so long that she’d forgotten what it meant to lean on someone. After her father had died, she’d pulled away from her mom. She’d told herself she did it because her mom didn’t need a kid clinging to her while she worked through her grief, but Gemma could see she’d done it because it was safer to be alone.
Nearly dying had made her overly contemplative. And pointed out some harsh truths in her life.
She tried not to think about what she’d figured out. There was time enough to deal with that later. Though she would have to tell Jesse what she suspected because, like it or not, Neanderthal thinking aside, he really was her man. He’d proven it today.
“She’s all right now,” Naomi said, her hands steady on the wheel. “The hospital wouldn’t have released her if she wasn’t okay. She’ll just be tired for a little while. And she’ll stay away from strawberries.”
Freaking strawberries. “It’s not like I said I wanted a taste.”
Her mother’s head shook. “And you without your medication. She’s had that medication on her person every day since she was six years old.”
Jesse’s arms tightened. “That wasn’t smart.”
She shrugged a little. “I haven’t been smart for a while.” The car got quiet for a moment. “Where do you think he is?”
Jesse’s voice was low, meant for her ears only. “I don’t know, baby.”
He’d been frustratingly silent on the subject of Cade. She remembered that he’d been there. Cade held her hand, but then he’d been gone and Jesse had taken his place, and she didn’t know where he was.
“Did you call him?”
“No.”
Well, that told her something. She sat up. “What happened?”
“You should tell her, Jesse.” Naomi made the turn that would take them to the valley. “You would be pissed if she didn’t tell you.”
“Someone better tell me something now.”
Jesse tugged her back into his arms. “Doc told you to rest.”
Stubborn man. “I can rest while you tell me where Cade is.”
She was starting to panic. Would he just leave? Could he have been so horrified by the whole body-bloating thing that he actually fled the county? She remembered how Patrick had spoken. Fucker. But Cade had gotten to his knees and held her like he wouldn’t let go.
Jesse sighed. “Gemma, the last I saw of him, he was being hauled off to jail.”
Gemma sat straight up. “Naomi, you have to get me to the station house. Damn it. How could you leave him there? What’s his bail? How late is it? I think the boys from Creede take the night shift. I don’t like them. They forget things. What if they forget his dinner?”
He could be sitting there in jail, rotting because he’d defended her.
“Gemma, he lost his temper when he should have been taking care of you.”
“Ty was taking care of me. And Cade was with me the whole time until Ty gave me the EpiPen. He held my hand. It might be a little hazy, but I remember that. It was Patrick, right? He punched Patrick.”
It was the only explanation that made a lick of sense. And given the conclusion she’d come to, she kind of wanted to kiss Cade.
“Honey, he didn’t just punch Patrick. As far as I could tell, he damn near killed him.”
“Good for Cade.”
“That’s what I said.” Naomi sounded a little fierce.
“Me, too. Good for Cade. I hope he messed that no-good up.” Her mother typically preached love and understanding, but she slapped at the dashboard.
“Does anyone here understand that what he did was wrong? He should have been taking care of you, Gemma. He made things difficult for the doctor. He could have hurt you.”
The time for honesty was upon her, and it was so much easier because it would get Cade out of trouble. “Jesse, I had my own fork.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Naomi stopped the car and both she and her mom turned.
“What are you saying, baby girl?” her mom asked.
She’d been over this a thousand times while she’d lain there in that bed. From the moment she’d been able to hold a comprehensible thought, she’d gone over and over the moment when she’d picked up that freaking fork and taken a bite.
“Stella brought me silverware. I unrolled it and put the fork and spoon and knife aside. I got up to go to the bathroom. I talked to Hope and Beth. I came back and my fork was right where I’d left it. Except it wasn’t mine. Mom, seriously? Do I just go around picking up forks?”
Naomi answered that one. “You try to clean the ones they bring you in restaurants. I’ll admit, it can be embarrassing at times.”
She felt an oddly deep satisfaction with her obsessive-compulsive disorder. Oh, it had failed her this time, but only because that weasel, tiny-dicked, no-balls ex of hers had played her properly. “I know how Stella cleans her dishes. I tested the temperature of the dishwater. Ten percent above Health Code. So I feel comfortable eating at Stella’s.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying, baby.” Jesse’s tone had changed to what she’d begun to think of as his About to Kick Some Ass voice. It was a slightly less sexy version of his About to Spank Your Ass voice, though Gemma still found it awfully arousing.
“I’m saying Patrick got rid of the fork Stella gave me and put his where I would think it
was mine.”
She could practically feel him vibrating with rage. If she’d thought for a single moment that this was all some sort of a fun game for Jesse McCann, those ideas were gone. He really did give a shit about her. He’d been pissed at his best friend when Cade hadn’t behaved the way he thought he should. He’d stayed with her, apparently choosing a rousing night at the hospital over getting his best friend out of jail.
She’d come between them, but in the best way. Not the best way. The best way would be sexually, but they both cared about her. They just didn’t see eye to eye on how they should go about it.
She needed rules. God, she fucking loved rules. Well, the ones she made, anyway.
“Rule number one, always make bail.”
“What?”
“We have rules for this relationship. You want me to be your woman? Well, I like rules and lists and matrices. If we live together, you better get used to a whole lot of whiteboards.”
“She’s not kidding,” her mother said with a laugh. “She made me get her one when she was eight years old and trying to figure out what pet to get. Her father and I watched in utter horror as she made pros and cons columns and then decided after ten days of deliberation that she wanted a houseplant.”
She’d been a mystery to her freewheeling hippie parents. She was so cautious, so unsure. She wanted the world to give her a money-back guarantee on life, but she was rapidly discovering that nothing worked that way—and it was okay. It was fucking okay to make mistakes and need a damn do-over. It was okay to not be one hundred percent sure that she was on the right path.
Gemma sat back, a single moment of her life crystalizing in an instant.
She was twelve and her father was dying. She remembered how cold the hospital was, but she couldn’t leave because this was her home now. Two weeks she’d spent as he choked and gasped his life away. Her mother had never faltered. She’d tried to send Gemma off, but she couldn’t go. What if he died and she wasn’t there?
She’d stood on a step stool and looked down at him, and he’d said three words to her.
“Live. Live. Live.”