Rosemary Beach: When I'm Gone Part 3

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Carter, Mr. Manning," the guy at the door said, as he opened it wide for us to enter.

I wasn't a member of the Kerrington Club, but Harlow, Rush, my father, Rush's father, and, of course, Nan were all members. I think people a.s.sumed I was, too.

"Mrs. Carter, Mr. Finlay and his wife are already seated in the back room. You've been given privacy," the hostess said, before we even reached her. We followed her through the dining room into a room with three gla.s.s walls overlooking the gulf and tennis courts.

Blaire stood up immediately and made her way to me. She wasn't coming for me, though. That much I knew.

"Give her to me." Blaire all but squealed, holding out her arms for Lila Kate.

"Hey, Mase!" Nate Finlay said, as he stood up on his chair and waved at me. The kid looked more and more like his father every time I saw him.

"Hey, little man." I walked over to give him a fist b.u.mp.

"B'whoa it up. Like dis," Nate said. Then he made a sound with his mouth like something was, in fact, blowing up, and opened his fist.

"That's an Uncle Grant thing," Blaire said, laughing.

I made sure to blow it up and took the seat across from Nate and Rush.

Rush was grinning like Nate was the most entertaining thing in the world. "Sit in the seat. No standing. Remember," he corrected him. Nate plopped down, and Rush ruffled his hair, then looked at me. "Enjoying your visit?" he asked.

"Yeah. It's good to see Harlow doing so well. And happy."

Rush nodded in agreement. "Grant, too. He's always smiling these days."

"Glad I don't live here. You guys look happy and all, but you're falling like dominos. You, Woods, Grant, and now Tripp." I leaned back and grinned. "It's in the water here, so I can't stick around too long. Not ready for that yet."

Rush chuckled and looked over at Blaire, who was cooing at Lila Kate. Blaire was a beauty. No doubt about it. When Rush had decided to settle down, he picked a winner. But still, that wasn't something I wanted. Not yet, at least. I was only twenty-five. Family life couldn't be all f.u.c.king roses, the way this bunch made it appear.

"You just haven't met her yet," Rush said, as he looked at Blaire. "When you do, it doesn't matter what you think now. She'll be all you want in life."

I was sure he felt that way, but I worked on a ranch with horses all day. Not much time for women or interactions with females. I was too busy making a living and building on my own land. Sure, I had needs. I was a man. But I had a friend who handled those needs, no strings attached. It worked for us. Cordelia had lived at the next ranch over for most of my life. She and I understood each other.

"Oh, Rush, she's perfect. I think I want a girl. I'm not sure how much longer I can wait," Blaire said, as she kissed Lila Kate's nose.

"Baby, when you're ready for another, I'll make it my number one goal in life to make that happen," he said, with a wink at his wife.

Blaire's cheeks turned pink, and she tried to frown at him but failed.

"Well, looky who they gave me today. I figured it must be VIPs, since I was given the job," a male voice said. I turned to see him smiling at Blaire. He bent over Lila Kate. "Hey, sweetness. You don't have your stingy daddy here today. I might get a turn holding you," he said.

"Hey, Jimmy," Nate called out, and waved. Then he held out his little hand in a fist.

Jimmy knew the drill and blew it up with him. "You want a vanilla c.o.ke, bro?" he asked Nate, who nodded. "What can I get for the rest of you?" Jimmy asked. He walked back to Blaire, took her drink order, and made his way around the table.

When he turned to leave, Harlow called out, "Jimmy, you're friends with Reese, right?"

I snapped my attention to my sister to see what she was about to say. She'd asked me about Reese casually, and I knew she had been digging for the reason behind my helping Reese. But I had ended that. Or so I thought.

Jimmy grinned brightly. "She's my neighbor and my new Game of Thrones watching buddy."

"Isn't that the person you mentioned to me about cleaning the house?" Blaire asked.

"Yep. That's the one," he replied.

Harlow looked at Blaire. "She's wonderful. You'll be really pleased with her." Then my sister looked back at Jimmy. "I was wondering about her hand. Is she doing OK?"

Jimmy's smile fell. "She's doing good. She did go to work today, though. I could've beat her s.e.xy a.s.s. But she's a stubborn one. I don't think she has any family at all. h.e.l.l, I don't think she has friends. She told me I was her first girlfriend a couple of weeks ago. But then we were sharing a bottle of chardonnay, so it could've been the wine talking. Regardless, she's a good girl. A sweet thing. I can't figure out why she's single. G.o.d knows, every hot man in our building has made a pa.s.s at her. Even the married ones." He shook his head in disgust.

"That's so sad," Blaire said, looking crestfallen. "Being alone isn't easy. I'm glad she has you."

Jimmy winked at Blaire before turning and walking out of the room.

There was a heavy feeling in my chest. I tried to shrug it off and focus on the conversation around me. But the thought of Reese being alone with no family bothered me. No one but Jimmy was checking up on her. How was that possible? The woman could stop traffic without trying. h.e.l.l, she had married men hitting on her.

I would wonder if maybe she was more into girls, but I'd seen her look at my bare chest. I knew better. She hadn't wanted to look, but she'd looked anyway.

When Jimmy came to clean up our plates, I saw Harlow's mind working. She was worrying about Reese, too. "Do you know how Reese is getting home today after work? Are you driving her?" Harlow asked Jimmy.

He frowned and stacked another plate in his arms. "No. She had a smaller house today. She's probably finished by now and heading home."

Harlow turned to look at me. "Would you go find her and give her a ride? Lila Kate and I can stay here and have dessert."

I was already standing before she had finished asking.

"Reese ain't real good with men. They make her nervous. It's sweet of you to send Mase, but she won't just climb into the car with him," Jimmy said, looking at me warily.

"It's OK. She knows Mase. He took her to get her hand st.i.tched up, and he took her home the other day from my house, too," Harlow a.s.sured him.

I watched Jimmy's face as he swung his gaze up to me. His eyes widened, and he grinned. "Well, at least she's got good taste. About d.a.m.n time," he mumbled.

"Ignore Jimmy. He's a romantic. He will make nothing out of something. Just go give her a ride. Please," Harlow begged. She was worried that I wouldn't go because of Jimmy's comment.

I glanced at Jimmy. "I want to talk to you about her walking. That needs to stop. Drive her to her houses. Don't make her walk from the club."

Jimmy's eyes got big, but I didn't wait around for a response. I knew the rest of them had heard me, and I knew what they were all thinking. But I didn't care. It was going to take more than that to keep me from going to see Reese again. She needed me. h.e.l.l, she just needed somebody. And f.u.c.k if I didn't want to be there to help her.

This was my mother's fault. She'd raised me to be this way. That was the only excuse I had.

Reese.

I didn't notice the expensive-looking SUV pulling up beside me until I heard a familiar deep voice call my name. I stopped and looked over as Mase pulled the car up behind me. I hadn't expected to see him again.

The way my heart picked up its pace and pumped wildly in my chest startled me. What was it about that man that made me feel things I thought were impossible for me?

"Get in," Mase said, as he walked around the front of the vehicle on his way to open the pa.s.senger-side door.

Truth was, I didn't want to argue with him. He was here, and I had a chance to be near him for a few minutes. I was going to take it.

I let my eyes quickly take in his jeans-clad bottom and the way the navy-blue T-s.h.i.+rt he was wearing clung to him, unable to hide all that definition. His hair was pulled back, but the curls at the ends made the strands look just messy and tempting to be touched.

When he started to turn back and look at me, I snapped to attention and hurried over to him. "Thanks," I said, as I climbed inside. He didn't help me this time, but then, this car wasn't high like his truck. It was Harlow's car. I knew it looked familiar, but the baby seat in the back was definitely Lila Kate's. I'd seen that before.

Mase closed my door, and I watched in appreciation of all his male beauty as he sauntered around the front of the vehicle, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. The stubble was back on his face today, and I decided I liked him best when he hadn't shaved.

"You worked today," he said, glancing down at my hand. "Your hand feeling better?"

It was. Much better. I hadn't had that much trouble with it today. I'd worn rubber gloves and had been able to clean without it slowing me down. "Yes," I replied. "Were you going somewhere?"

He shook his head and pulled back out onto the road. "No. Just finished lunch at the club. Jimmy mentioned that you worked today and that you were walking home," he explained.

So Mase had run off to come find me? If he'd been going to the Carters', he would have turned a few blocks back. My stomach did a fluttery thing.

Before I could think of anything to say to that, a phone started ringing. Mase leaned back and pulled a flat smartphone from his pocket.

"Hey, everything good?" he said when he answered, looking concerned. "Sure. I'll be back by then. I think I can fit it in. They say how long they need to board?" I tried not to look at his face as he concentrated on the road and the conversation he was having. "Yeah, give it to me," he said, then reached over and opened the glove compartment. "See if there's a pen in there, Reese."

I quickly did as he asked and found a black pen and handed it to him. He pushed it back at me and picked up a piece of paper sticking up between the seats. "Here, write this down," he told me.

Oh, no. Not this.

He would see what I wrote. And it was hard for me to write things down when they were dictated to me. I had to concentrate. My letters got turned around, and I often started to panic when I felt pressure to write without enough time. I had to be alone, and I needed to focus.

"Three-three-three," he started, and I quickly wrote down the numbers. I could do that. It wasn't hard. "Berkley Road," he added, and my heart began pounding so loudly I couldn't hear anything else. "Fort Worth," he said, before I had even managed to write the B or what I thought was the B. My hands were shaking so badly I wasn't sure I could write anything else.

I sucked in a deep breath and tried hard to get myself under control. Berkley. I had the B. Then it was E. I started to write the E, and it looked like the 3 I had written before. I paused and glanced back at the 3s. Why did they look alike?

His gaze was on me. A cold sweat broke out all over my body, and I forced myself to keep going. It was an R next. I blinked rapidly, as the words I had written twisted and my head began to throb.

"Text it to me," I heard him say. I knew he wasn't talking to me.

I closed my eyes tightly, wanting nothing more than to jump out of the moving vehicle. This was not happening to me. I had lived here almost a year without anyone knowing I was stupid. That stigma had been left behind. I had used the spell-check on Jimmy's computer to fill out my application for the cleaning service.

My grip on the pen had turned my knuckles white, and I looked down at it through the frustrated tears gathering in my eyes. Now Mase Manning knew just how stupid I was. Of all people to have figured this out, why did it have to be him? The universe hated me.

Mase's large hand reached over and took the pen from my grasp. I let him have it. Then he tossed it into the glove compartment and closed it. I couldn't look at him. He wasn't saying anything, and I refused to meet his gaze. I would see the pity or, worse, the disgust.

The car stopped, and I sucked in a breath, then reached for the door handle. I would just bolt. The chances of me seeing this man again were slim to none. He didn't say anything as I climbed out of the car. That hurt, even though I was thankful. He wasn't opening my door or telling me good-bye. He was just letting me run away like the idiot I was.

I didn't look back at him as I dug for my apartment key in my backpack.

My hand was shaking so badly I couldn't get the key into the lock. The tears were blurring my vision, and I let out a sob of frustration before trying once again to open my front door.

Suddenly, his hand was covering mine, and I watched as he plucked the key from my weak grasp. I stood in horror and confusion as he unlocked my door and pushed it open. Why was he out of the car?

I didn't move. I was frozen in my spot. Then his hand touched my back, and he gently nudged me inside. Unable to think for myself, I went. He kept his hand on my lower back until we were both inside, and the door closed softly behind us. He'd followed me inside. He was going to ask me questions. Questions he already knew the answers to. I had proven in the car how my brain didn't work right. He had seen it first-hand. I just needed him to go away now.

"What happened?" his voice was gentle and kind. There was no ugliness to his question. I almost felt safe. Almost.

Mase.

My thoughts were all over the place as I tried like h.e.l.l to figure out what had happened in the car. I'd never seen anyone do that before. It had been hard to drive as I watched Reese struggle with writing down a simple address. I hadn't realized she was having a problem until she made a soft panicked noise in her throat like she couldn't breathe.

My gaze had gone to her face, and I'd seen she'd gone pale. Glancing down at the paper, I'd also seen three Es instead of three 3s. Her backward B had been enough for me to know something was off. She had to have an explanation. One that made sense.

"I'm stupid . . . I . . . my brain doesn't work right. I went to school for twelve years and still didn't graduate. I can't pa.s.s a test. I can't . . . I can't even read. Not much."

Holy s.h.i.+t.

She lifted her hand up to wipe at her tears, and her full lips were puckered up. She was even gorgeous when she cried.

"You're not stupid," I said tightly. I hated hearing her call herself that. Something was wrong with her, but she was not stupid.

She let out a sad laugh and continued to wipe away her tears. "You may be the first person who knows about this and doesn't think I'm stupid."

My body tensed, and an angry coil tightened in my chest. "Did someone tell you that you were stupid?" I asked, unable to keep my emotions out of my voice. I was p.i.s.sed.

She stiffened, then glanced at me warily. "Yes" she replied softly.

"Who?"

She studied me a moment. At least my reaction had stopped her tears.

Those big eyes sucked you in, but with them all wet and red from crying, they were more lethal. You wanted to do whatever the h.e.l.l was needed to make them s.h.i.+ne with laughter.

"My parents, teachers, other kids . . . everyone," she replied. "But I am. You just don't know . . ." She trailed off, looking so forlorn and broken. Her tone told me that this wasn't easy on her. I wondered if anyone in her life knew this.

"Then they're the idiots. I've been around you enough to know you're smart. You live on your own and have a job. A stupid person couldn't accomplish all that."

She frowned again, then crossed her arms over her chest as if she were protecting herself.

What kind of parents did this to their child? She must have been a breathtaking kid. The kind people wanted to watch just to see her smile. h.e.l.l, I even liked when she pouted.

"Don't tell anyone, please," she whispered, looking up at me.

Did she actually think I'd do that? I ran a hand through my hair in frustration, forgetting that it was pulled back in a ponytail.