Underestimated Part 50

He held my hand as we walked through the neighborhood back toward my house. I didn't want him to hold my hand.

All of my neighbors knew that I was supposed to marry the town sheriff. I wasn't going to explain that to him though.

"When were you planning on going to North Carolina?" he asked, brus.h.i.+ng his sea gla.s.s with his thumb.

"Next week."

"I really wish you would fly. I can arrange for a plane and a driver for you."

"I'm not going to fly, Drew."

"Yeah, I didn't think so. I think you should get a sports utility vehicle. There're safer."

Drew sat at my table and searched vehicles on line while I started supper. I knew he would probably complain, but I was so hungry for sausage, eggs and gravy and biscuits.

I sat our plates on the table. He gave his plate a strange look.

"Breakfast?" he asked the rhetorical question.

"Hmm, yes, I was hungry for it," I replied taking a bite of the scrumptious gravy and biscuits.

He raised his eyebrows and took a bite. "Hmm, this is good. Where did you learn to cook?"

"I cooked a lot growing up, and Rebecca taught me a lot."

"You cooked growing up?"

"I had too. I didn't have the best parents in the world."

"Mr. Callaway knew that. That is why he paid your mother to stay away from you both. He wanted you both to have better lives."

"But why wouldn't he want me to be with my brother?" I asked. I didn't understand that part. I loved Justin, and he loved me.

"That wasn't him, Morgan. That was all me. I talked him into doing it that way because I didn't want a kid getting in the way of my plans for you."

"That makes me want to hate you, Drew."

"You should hate me. I hate me for the things that I have done."

I could have very easily thrown him out of my house at that moment. I was p.i.s.sed, but abstained from talking anymore about it. I knew that he was leaving the next morning, and I didn't want it to end in a fight. He admitted his wrong and was trying with everything in him to make it right. Me, opening up old wounds wasn't going to solve anything.

"Did you find anything?" I asked about the car shopping instead.

"Yeah, a few things. What do you think of this?" he asked, sliding my laptop for me to see.

I looked at the BMW X6 M and swallowed the lump in my throat. "Starting at 92,000, Drew?" I asked. I drove a 1993 Honda Civic. I didn't need a car that cost that much, let alone one with 555 horsepower. "What the h.e.l.l am I going to do with that much car?"

"Drive it, what else?"

"No. Thanks for your help. I think I will just go shopping myself tomorrow."

Drew helped me clean up and then went to the shower. I sat at the table with my laptop and opened up my email while I waited for my turn. I felt like the worse person on earth when I read Dawson's email.

"Hey, beautiful. I just wanted to see if you were okay. You didn't call or text me like I asked you to. I'm sure you're fine. You looked to be very happy when I saw you with your husband this morning. I can't do this, Ry. I love you, and I want you more than my own life, but I can't just keep waiting on the sidelines for you to decide what you want. You have a husband for Christ sake. I should step out and let you try to make it work. I don't want to. I hate the thought of you being with anyone, especially a man that I would love to stick my gun in his mouth, but I have to. It's breaking my heart, and I just need to distance myself. I love you, and if you ever need anything, you know where to find me.

f.u.c.k...

I wanted to go to him right that second. That wasn't an option. Drew was in my shower.

I quickly emailed him back. "Don't you do this, Dawson. I have known my name for two weeks. You can't expect me to just go back to who I was. I love you too, and you know it. Don't give up on us, Daw. Please. Give me some time. I am going to North Carolina for a few days next week to try and make some sense of this tangled mess.

Give me that much, please. I don't want to lose you, Dawson."

I started to log off of my computer when I saw the, one new message, pop up in the corner. I didn't want to be talking to him when Drew came out. I had enough to deal with without adding him to it too.

"Is he still there?"

"Yes. He is leaving in the morning. Will you come over tomorrow night so that we can talk?"

"I can't tell you no. Yes. I will be there."

"Okay, I will see you tomorrow." I quickly replied and closed out of the email when I heard Drew open the bathroom door.

Of course he had to be wearing his jeans low on his hips, no s.h.i.+rt and no shoes. He made me want to devour his s.e.xy as h.e.l.l body with kisses. His hair was uncombed, and only towel dried. s.h.i.+t. Why did this have to be so hard? Why couldn't he be ugly? I'm sure it would have helped.

"Your turn," he said, pulling me from my wicked thoughts about him being naked.

I closed the laptop and grabbed a quick shower and shaved speedily, just in case.

I dressed in short white shorts, with a light pink cami, purposely pulling it up to show my midriff. I walked behind Drew sitting at the table, and ran my hands down his s.e.xy as h.e.l.l, bare chest.

f.u.c.k. f.u.c.k. f.u.c.k.

"Maybe I should be the one to step out," Drew said, moving my hand from his chest and standing.

Dawson's last message was displayed with the rest of them. "I love you, Riley."

"Maybe you shouldn't be reading my emails," I snapped.

"I give up Morgan or Riley, whatever the f.u.c.k your name is. That right there tells me that I don't have a chance in h.e.l.l."

"Why, Drew? I never once lied to you about Dawson. You knew that I was supposed to marry him. I told you that I was in love with him. How was I supposed to know that you could be this person?" I said waving my arm around animatedly. "You're going to get p.i.s.sed at me because I'm confused about whether I should choose the man that I know will always do right by me. Do you really think that it's that easy? What, Drew? Do you think I should choose the one that has hurt me more times than I can count?"

"No, Morgan. I think you should choose Robocop.

It's obvious that you are going to hang over my head what I did, and bring it up every time you get p.i.s.sed off."

"What the f.u.c.k do you expect, Drew? I have had a h.e.l.l of a lot of s.h.i.+t dumped in my lap the past couple of weeks. Can you not get that?"

Drew turned and grabbed me by both of my arms, hard. He had the look that used to scare the h.e.l.l out of me.

My heart plummeted to my stomach. His eyes were dark and cold, the same eyes that I saw so many times, right before his hand came in direct contact with my face.

"I'm scared, Drew," I whimpered, trying to get him to calm down.

He eased up on his grip and pulled me into his arms. "Jesus Christ, Morgan. Don't be afraid of me."

I relaxed. "I'm sorry, Drew," I apologized. "I know this is hard for you too, but please try to see things from my eyes."

"I'm trying, baby, believe me I am. What I really want to do is force you to get on that plane with me tomorrow and keep you locked up forever, but I can't. I don't want you to ever want to run from me again. It's kind of like that old saying about if you love something let it go, if it comes back to you, it's yours forev..."

I laughed, stopping his stupid quote. "Drew, please don't say that. That is so lame." I couldn't help it. I always did hate that saying. I mean come on, If it comes back to you, it's yours forever if it doesn't it never was? Can you say puke in my mouth?

Drew sat on the sofa and pulled me to his lap. "I'm going to let you go, Morgan," he said, looking into my eyes.

"What does that mean, Drew?"

"It means that I am going to give you your s.p.a.ce and let you spend the time you think you need with Dawson. I have no right not to let you."

"I don't want you to let me go, Drew. I want you to give me some time."

He looked sad. He moved his eyes from mine to my bare leg. He rubbed my leg and softly spoke.

"I have to let you go, Morgan. I can't turn my back while you're doing, what I know you will be doing with Dawson. I can't. You do what you need to do, and I will understand one way or the other."

I moved myself from his lap, walked over to the refrigerator, took out a beer and walked out to the deck. I had to. I was ready to explode on him. I put up with so much s.h.i.+t from that man, and he couldn't chill out long enough for me to figure things out? Bull s.h.i.+t.

Drew followed me out. He could tell that I was p.i.s.sed.

"Morgan?"

"You remember one G.o.d d.a.m.n thing, Drew. I didn't walk away. You let me go."

"How am I supposed to feel, Morgan?"

"You know what? I have no clue. I don't even know how I should feel. How the h.e.l.l am I supposed to tell you how you feel?"

"I should just go. It's obvious that we need a timeout from each other."

"Yeah, you probably should, except there are no cabs, or phone call away, drivers around here," I coolly said crossing my arms. I was done. What the f.u.c.k? This man should be kneeling at my feet, giving me everything I ask for.

"I can take care of myself," he a.s.sured me.

Go for it...

"You do whatever you have to do," I demanded. I didn't mean it. I didn't think he would really leave. Where the h.e.l.l did he think he was going to go in the middle of nowhere? I couldn't stop him. My proud ego refused to go after him. He would be back or call or something. I hoped.

He didn't come back. I wanted to call Lauren and tell her to get her a.s.s over to my house and bring every alcoholic beverage she could find. I couldn't do that either. She had to get up with the chickens for work.

I went to the ringing doorbell after six beers. I laughed. I'm sure most of my humor was alcohol induced.

It was still funny. Poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d probably never even left my front yard.

I opened the door with a smirk.

f.u.c.kity, f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k.

"Hey," I managed to spit out.

"You okay?" Dawson asked.

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, I don't know. I just presumed that you and your husband must have had a fight or something."

I looked at him peculiarly. "Why would you presume that?"

"Can I come in?"

"Oh, sorry. Yes. Come in."

"I just picked him up and gave him a ride into town."

"You did?" I asked, stumbling a little.

"Are you drunk, Ry?"

"Yeah. I think maybe I am. Where was he going?"

"I don't know, but he was on the phone arranging for someone to pick him up. I can't imagine calling someone and telling them to send the plane, not just a plane. He said, the plane, like he owned it or something."

"He kind of does," It wasn't a complete lie. He did kind of own it, as long as he was married to me.

"Did you guys have a fight?"

"Yes."

"About what?"

Kind of nosey, eh?

"You, he read my email while I was in the shower."

"Is he gone for good or just gone?"

"Dawson, please don't do this. I can't handle either one of you anymore. I'm ready to tell you both to go to h.e.l.l," I said walking away.

"Jesus Christ, Riley. Did he hit you?"