Finding West Read online

She stood up, dusting off her hands. “Should I be?”

  “No, but you have to admit your reaction to me—letting me stay here—is not normal.”

  She gave a wry grin. “I couldn’t even tell you what normal is anymore.”

  “Have you lived by yourself all this time?”

  “I have. Since my dad went to jail.”

  “Huh.”

  Her features immediately hardened. “Yeah, he’s in jail. Is that a problem?”

  I shook my head. “No, I was just wondering if you work? Date? Have friends?”

  “No and no and no.”

  “So you spend a lot of time alone?”

  She looked me in the eye, her chest puffed out. “Yes and I like it that way,” she said almost proudly. “I don’t need to date. I don’t need friends. Josie is the only company I need.”

  “Doesn’t it get lonely?” I knew I’d struck a nerve when she averted her eyes. So the strong Kat was not so impervious after all.

  “Maybe sometimes,” she said, her voice so soft I almost didn’t hear her confession. “But I prefer it this way. I don’t like people and people don’t like me.”

  “I like you,” I said. “I think you’re—”

  “If you say beautiful, I will knock you upside the head with the bag of dog food.”

  I grinned. “Interesting. I was going to say interesting.”

  She gave a small nod of approval. “I can live with interesting.”

  I smiled to myself, feeling my chest swell with pride from my tiny victory.

  5

  KAT

  The night was long and sleep came in fits and starts. Unable to relax, I crept out of my room to pee, taking care to avoid the creaky places on the floor so as not to wake the stranger.

  I slipped into the bathroom without bothering to turn on the lights and ran smack dab into a wall of warm, hard skin. I shrieked and stumbled backwards, my hands scrambling for the light switch.

  There stood the stranger with his back to me, his ass completely bare as he took a piss.

  “Shit, sorry,” I said, averting my eyes, but the image remained burned behind my eyelids, allowing me to see that meaty butt and thick, muscular legs over and over again.

  “Sorry,” he said, pulling his pants up and flushing the toilet. “I should have locked the door.”

  “What are you doing peeing in the dark?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t want to bother with the lights.”

  “You’d better have damn good aim, then.”

  “My aim is impeccable.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know, I’m getting very sick of seeing your ass everywhere.”

  He raised one playful eyebrow. “Are you now?” he asked and suddenly it was as if the room had shrunk in size and he was taking up more than his fair share of it.

  My first instinct when faced with a dark hulking figure was to retreat, but I stood my ground. I wasn’t about to let him see me intimidated. Even if he was incredibly, attractively intimidating.

  He took a step closer until we were almost touching. If I took a deep breath, my breasts would touch his bare chest. I hated that I was so aware of him, as if my body was tuned into his pheromone frequency and couldn’t get enough. But I supposed that’s what happened to people when they’ve been celibate for so long. To be honest, I just hadn’t met anyone I’d felt physically attracted to.

  Until now.

  “Excuse me,” he said with that playful little smile.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’m just trying to leave.”

  I walked out into the hallway to let him pass. His arm brushed mine as he walked by, making my skin tingle in its wake. At the bedroom door, he flashed me a look over his shoulder, the darkness concealing his expression. “Goodnight, Kat,” he said. “Sweet dreams.”

  Finally alone in the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face and tried my best to calm my nerves. One day. One freaking day and already I was panting after this man like I was in heat. I’d hate to see what would happen if we had a week.

  I woke the next morning shivering from the cold. Even Josie, who was normally fine with the cold weather, was snuggled up behind me with her face buried under a pillow.

  “Holy hell, it’s freezing,” I said, my breath coming out in white wisps. This trailer was fine during milder weather but every now and then, when the temperatures dipped below a certain level, the house just said “Fuck it” and gave up trying to retain heat. Today it seemed was one of those days.

  I hid my head beneath the blanket and tried to go back to sleep. It was there in my warm cocoon that I suddenly remembered I had a guest. I jumped out of bed, swearing as the chill stung my skin, and pulled on a pair of sweatpants, sweatshirt, and a pair of wool socks. I smelled something in the air, telling me that the stranger was already up.

  I threw my door open and skidded to a halt. He was standing by the west window, wearing my father’s pants and dark blue fisherman’s sweater. The stranger was looking out over the snowy landscape as he held my favorite Christmas mug in his hand. He looked so beautiful in the wan morning light, his strong, dark profile contrasting the vast whiteness outside.

  He turned to me with a smile that jumpstarted my heart. “Morning,” he said with that deep, rumbly voice of his.

  It struck me then, as the aroma wafted up my nose, that the mug he was holding was filled with coffee. “You made coffee?”

  He grinned and in several long steps he was in the kitchen, pouring me a cup.

  “I’ve never woken up to fresh coffee before,” I said, accepting the mug gratefully and taking a long pull from the dark liquid. It was at that perfect temperature, still hot but not enough to burn. I moaned into the cup. “Why does coffee taste better when I’m not the one who made it?”

  “Because your tears of bitterness are not mixed in?” he teased with a twinkle in his eyes.

  I chuckled into my cup.

  “You should laugh like that more often,” he said.

  “You should make coffee more often then. Every morning if possible,” I said and immediately regretted it. “Well, not literally. But... you know what I mean.”

  He smiled at me over his mug then looked back towards the window. “So it looks like it snowed several more inches overnight.”

  I walked to the window above the sink and looked out, seeing my Jeep still stuck in the ditch and buried under even more snow. “That sucks.” I turned back to him. “Are you going to try and walk back into town today?”

  He waited a few heartbeats before saying, “I think that would prove an exercise in futility.”

  I nodded, trying not to show my relief. Truth was, somewhere along the way, I’d become accustomed to his presence. I’d never admit it aloud of course; he’d have to employ torture tactics to get me to divulge that I didn’t want him to leave just yet.

  After eating Cocoa Pebbles cereal, we sat across the table from each other awkwardly.

  “So…” I played with the milk, sliding the spoon into it over and over.

  “So…” he echoed, stroking his beard.

  “Is it itchy?” I asked, motioning to his face.

  “Not usually,” he said, pinching pieces of it between his fingers. “But it’s there, you know?”

  “I wonder what you look like under all of that?” I was just musing out loud, but suddenly I was burning with curiosity. “I bet you’re a complete uggo under there. Maybe that’s why you grew a beard to begin with.”

  He grinned. “Possibly. Or maybe I’m an international male model who just wanted to be incognito for a while.”

  “Until you were kidnapped for ransom—”

  “But the kidnappers realized nobody would pay the ransom, so they took my belongings and dumped me in the middle of nowhere.”

  “No, no,” I said, enjoying our banter. “Your kidnappers were women, fans of yours, and they didn’t want money, they just wanted your body. So they had their way with you, but you somehow escaped. You wandered in t
he snow, lost for days…”

  “Until you found me and nursed me back to health.” He leaned back in the chair and brought his hand up to his mouth, rubbing his beard absently. “I’ll forever be indebted to you,” he said with a hint of a grin.

  I pushed away from the table, ignoring the sincerity in his last comment. “Come on then. Why don’t you shave that beard off and let’s find out if our theory’s correct?”

  A few minutes later we found ourselves in the tiny bathroom going through my dad’s old leather toiletry bag. I pulled out an old-school safety razor, the kind with the rounded top that opened up.

  He picked it up and studied the blade inside. “This is pretty dull. It would eat my face up.”

  I rummaged in a drawer and found a package of pink disposable shavers. “Would you rather use these?”

  He returned the safety razor in the leather bag and picked up a pink one. “Why not? I’m more scared of tetanus than the color pink.”

  I produced a can of berry-scented shaving gel. “And this?”

  “Okay, now maybe I’m a little scared.” Nevertheless he squeezed some onto his hand then began to massage it onto his face.

  I watched him closely in the mirror, completely engrossed by the process.

  He paused, the pink razor inches from his face. “Can I help you with something?”

  “I don’t remember my dad shaving. At least, I never saw him shave. I’ve always wondered how it’s done, how you don’t just nick an artery and bleed all over the place. I mean, I’ve shaved my legs, but the thought of shaving a face is kind of scary.”

  “Sometimes you nick something and you have to stick a piece of toilet paper on it.”

  “Men actually do that?”

  “Sure. I think.” He holds out the razor. “Would you like to try?”

  “You want me to shave you?” I asked, my heart immediately racing. “You trust me with a blade near your throat?”

  The crinkling around his eyes was back. “You went to all that trouble to save me. I don’t think you’ll end me this way.” He left the room and came back with a dining chair. He sat down and lifted his face to mine. “Hack away.”

  I grabbed him by the hair and tilted his head back, enjoying this little amount of dominance I was wielding. It was intoxicating, this power to control a man—and an immense one at that—and move him any way I wanted. I was thinking maybe I could really get used to it before I caught myself. There was nothing to get used to. This man and I had no future together beyond today.

  “Has nobody ever told you?” he whispered after some time.

  “Told me what?” I asked, concentrating on the dip in the middle of his chin.

  “That you’re beautiful?”

  I stopped, irritated. “Look, I know I’m nothing special to look at, so please stop with the beautiful shit because it’s getting old. You don’t have to keep blowing smoke up my ass so I don’t kick you out.” I tried to return to the task but he grabbed my wrist.

  His grey gaze held mine, his dark eyebrows drawing together. “I’m not flattering you just for flattery’s sake,” he said, sounding a little irritated himself. “I’m telling you because you’re apparently blind.”

  I tried to keep from responding the way he intended. I’m not that girl who gets all gushy and blushing when complimented about her looks. I’d much rather hear that I’m strong or that I’m intelligent, but to be told I was attractive by this stranger did something unusual to my insides. It made me feel… soft.

  And for once, being soft wasn’t so bad.

  “Well then, thank you,” I mumbled under my breath and went back to shaving him, painfully aware of his eyes watching me.

  “Give it some time, and I’ll have you receiving compliments with grace.”

  “You planning on sticking around, stranger?”

  He must have realized that what he’d said hinted at permanence, but he just shrugged. “I might, if my memory never returns.”

  The idea that he would be here with me for a long time sent a jolt of fear and anticipation through my veins. My brain and my heart were at war over the issue, one shouting that he was a complete stranger and the other retorting that it didn’t matter, that he had somehow already made his way under my skin.

  But that was the real danger, wasn’t it? That I’d be so foolish and inexperienced and give my heart to the first man who came along?

  I was so entrenched in my thoughts that it came as a surprise when I was done. I wet a face towel and wiped the remaining traces of foam and hair off his cheeks. I pulled away and, for the first time, took in his entire face. What I saw made me lean against the counter to keep from falling.

  Holy hell. The man was fucking gorgeous.

  6

  STRANGER

  “What is it?” I stood up and peered into the mirror behind her, seeing yet another stranger on its glass surface, though a fairly good-looking one I had to admit. I became painfully aware of Kat in that moment, of my body boxing her in. “Do you recognize me?” I asked, so close I could almost feel her body tensing from my presence. “Was our theory correct? Do you recognize me from somewhere?”

  She shook her head, barely breathing. “No.”

  “Then what?”

  The bewildered look on her face melted away, replaced by curiosity. She reached up and, like a child unable to help but touch a toy, traced a finger along my jaw.

  A tremble traveled up my spine at the contact as it finally dawned on me what had her so rattled: she thought I was attractive. I grabbed her other wrist and held it up to my face. “Touch me.”

  She didn’t need to be asked twice. She smoothed my eyebrows back, traced a finger along my cheeks and down my nose, and finally cupped my jaws in the palm of her hands. Her touch alternated from soft to heavy, prodding and caressing.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her, even as I felt my cock stirring in my pants. This side of her—the side that defied acceptable social interactions—turned me on. She had no filter, physical or verbal, and it was unpredictably exhilarating.

  “You should see yourself,” she said, the pads of her thumbs rubbing along my lips. “And you say I’m beautiful.”

  “You are.” I curled my hands around the edge of the counter to keep from grabbing her and holding her body flush against mine.

  “You can’t be real.” A moment later, she cleared her throat and moved aside. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

  I touched her wrist. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s just... I’ve just never—”

  “You’ve never touched a man?”

  She barked a laugh. “No, I have. But not one that looks like you.”

  “Have you ever been with a man?”

  “Of course I have.”

  My eyebrows rose in surprise. “And did you enjoy it?”

  “That’s none of your fucking business.”

  She turned to leave when I grabbed her arm. “I’m sorry. I just want to get to know you.”

  “Drilling me about my sexual past is not the place to start.”

  I ran a hand through my hair. “I’m trying to understand how someone like you could be single right now. It doesn’t seem possible.”

  She folded her arms under her breasts. “I’m single because men are selfish animals who just take their pleasure and give nothing back in return. At least my vibrators leave me satisfied.”

  If I hadn’t been hard before, the mental image of her playing with a vibrator finished me off. “Maybe you just haven’t met the right man.”

  She snickered. “Let me guess, you’re the right man?”

  “I might be.”

  “You can’t even remember your name! How could you possibly stand there and claim that you’re good in bed?”

  I pushed away from the counter and stepped to her, knowing she’d stand her ground. I loomed over her, asserting my dominance. “I don’t need my memory to know we’d be combustible together. I don’t need a history or past to explore every curve
of your body, learn every move that makes you quiver,” I said, my muscles bunching up from the effort it was taking not to grab her. “I don’t need to know my name because by the time I’m done, you’ll forget yours.”

  Kat was frozen in place, her face a mask of indifference, but her eyes gave her away, those blue orbs that touched every part of me as if measuring my sincerity.

  I gave her room to breath, feeling a sense of caveman satisfaction at having knocked her so off-kilter. She was as turned on as I was if her ragged breathing was anything to go by. But I knew I’d already pushed her far enough; now I needed to wait for her to come to me.

  She swallowed. “I thought I told you not to say shit like that,” she said but her voice was without its earlier conviction.

  “I’m just telling you what I know,” I said. I reached up to rub my beard and felt bare skin instead. It felt strange, as if I’d somehow revealed something unexpected about myself. I turned away, grabbed the back of the chair, and took it back to the kitchen. When I came back, Kat was in the hallway, looking as if she still wanted to say something.

  I leaned a shoulder against the wall and waited.

  “I’m not a virgin, okay?” she said a little grumpily. “I don’t even know why it matters, but I’ve had sex with two men. So don’t get the idea that you need to deflower me,” she said, making air quotes.

  “Okay,” I said. “No deflowering. Noted.”

  She walked off towards the living room saying nothing else. She grabbed her laptop and the blanket that was folded over the back of the couch and lay down. Josie immediately jumped up, circled a few times then lay on her feet.

  “You look cozy,” I said, sitting on the recliner, which I realized was fast becoming my spot. One day I’d get her to invite me onto that couch, and maybe eventually into her bed.

  She flicked a glance at me then promptly turned her eyes back to the computer screen, apparently too intimidated to look at me for long. “This is what I do every Monday.”

  A sensation similar to getting doused with ice water came over me. “It’s Monday? What’s the date?”