Emilie Rose - A Better Man

She caught herself admiring the way he filled out his jeans and couldn’t force her gaze away any more than she could stop a freight train with her pinkie finger. Roth still looked damned good. Better than any of the slim pickings in town, for sure.

An old familiar hunger trickled through her—one she hadn’t experienced in so long that she almost didn’t recognize the budding tension in her belly. When she did she tried to pop the bubble by focusing on the wreckage he’d made of her life when he’d said goodbye.

She clung to the hurt and anger like a shield, but no matter how much his betrayal stung, she didn’t—couldn’t—hate Roth, because he’d given her the most precious part of her life. Josh.

He opened the door and she climbed into the high cab. When he slid into the driver’s seat she fastened her seat belt and took shallow breaths through her mouth to avoid the tantalizing aroma of his scent. It didn’t work.

He put the truck in gear and hit the highway. “If you didn’t go to vet school, what have you been doing since I last saw you?”

Raising your son. She held her tongue and searched for an acceptable answer.

“Right after you left, my father’s great-aunt fell and broke her hip. She needed live-in help while she recuperated. I was available.”

“I don’t remember your aunt.”

“She moved to Florida when I was a baby.”

That earned her a quick look. “Florida? You left Quincey?”

His disbelieving tone raised her hackles. “I was going away for college.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “You were going to commute. The chief wasn’t about to let his baby girl live in a dorm with all those wild college girls.”

True. She couldn’t deny she’d been sheltered and her father had been—and still was—overprotective, which explained the sad state of her social life. She might be thirty, but he still treated her like a child.

Scratching at a spot on her scrubs, she searched for a way to give Roth enough information to satisfy his curiosity without revealing too much. “I was ready for a change of scenery anyway after…”

“Our breakup?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you go to school after you finished playing nurse?”

“It took Aunt Agnes longer to recover than expected. By then I’d lost my financial aid and reapplying for everything was too much of a hassle. I went to community college for a veterinary assistant degree instead. As long as I’m able to work with animals, it doesn’t really matter in what capacity.”

“There’s a substantial difference in salary.”

“I was never about the money, Roth. You know that.”

For a moment his somber gaze held hers, then he focused on the road. “That’s what you always said, but you weren’t used to doing without or eating wild game or macaroni every night. You were the chief’s little princess.”

“And you only asked me out to get under my father’s skin in retaliation for him riding your back.”

“Best bet I ever accepted. Then I fell for you, Piper. Fell hard.” He shook his head. “But we were so damned young.”

The memories made her chest ache. “I heard your mother’s moving back. I’ll bet she’s happy you’re going to be here.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Surprise rippled over her. “But she knows you’ve been appointed chief, right?”

“If she does, she didn’t hear it from me.”

“Why not?”

He hesitated, a muscle bunching in his jaw. “We…had a difference of opinion.”

“About?”

“Several things. And after I joined the Marines communication was never easy.”

“You’re a Marine?” Her eyes raked him again. Military service could explain the short hair, chiseled physique and perfect posture.

“Was.”

“How long have you been out?”

“Four years.”

She waited for him to elaborate. Most men liked to talk about themselves. Why couldn’t he be one of them? Instead, getting information out of him resembled an inquisition. “What have you been doing?”

“Working with the Charlotte-Mecklenburg P.D. SWAT team.”

Her pulse stuttered. All this time he’d been only a few hours away. “You never mentioned an interest in the military or law enforcement when we were together.”

“Never considered either.”

“Then why enlist?”

His dark gaze stabbed her again. “Your father didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

The hum of his radial tires on the blacktop filled the cab for so long she thought he might not answer. “After he arrested me for jacking Gus’s car the chief gave me a choice. Enlist or jail. Either way, if I ever came near you again, he promised my mother would pay.”

Her breath caught at the unjust accusation. Her father had known how much she loved Roth. He wouldn’t deliberately hurt her by sending Roth away. “Daddy would never have made such a threat.”

“Wrong.” Roth clenched the wheel. “He put me in the back of his patrol car and took me to visit my father in prison. Then he drove me to the recruitment office and stood over me while I signed the papers.”

Denial ripped through her. “I don’t believe you. My father is a stickler for rules. He wouldn’t bend them let alone break them. Besides, your mother moved away soon after you did. My father wouldn’t have had any influence over her.”

A disgusted sound erupted from his throat. “I didn’t expect her to take the money I sent her each month and move closer to the prison holding the bastard who beat her and convinced her she deserved it.”

She gasped. He’d never spoken so plainly about his past when they were together. If anything, he’d tried to shield her from it. Sure, she’d heard the stories compliments of her father and the Quincey grapevine, but having Roth confirm them rattled her.

“None of that would have happened if you hadn’t confessed to a crime you didn’t commit. Daddy could never have proven you’d stolen Gus’s Corvette.”

“My prints were all over that car, and your father claimed he had witnesses and enough proof to lock me away.”

“There couldn’t have been witnesses or proof if you didn’t do it. And your prints were on the car because you’d worked on it that morning.”

Roth’s father had been a mechanic before going to prison, and Roth had taken over his daddy’s business while still in high school. Even though she’d had no interest in cars she’d spent countless hours standing beside open hoods watching him work to be with him.

“Your dad had most of the county’s legal system in his pocket. He could have railroaded a conviction through.”

“Of course he had influential friends. How could he not after all those years as chief? But having connections is not a crime. Lying to the police is. I tried to tell him the truth but he wouldn’t listen to me. You should have told Daddy Chuck took the car for a joyride. Instead, you chose to lie for your buddy over telling the truth and staying with me.”

The old anger, frustration, hurt and resentment poured like acid from her mouth. “Admit it, Roth. You wanted to cut your ties to me and Quincey, and Chuck provided the perfect opportunity. Maybe you and he prearranged it.”

Roth exhaled roughly. He swung sharply into the gravel parking lot of Pig In a Blanket, stomped on the brake and silenced the engine, then twisted to face her. “We did no such thing. I was bad news, Piper. You deserved better. And so did Chuck.”

“Chuck was a thief. Why did he deserve your loyalty more than me?” She hated the hurt in her tone, but this conversation exposed so many memories. The sharp edges of the bills stabbing her palm when he’d folded her fingers around his money roll. The cold resolution in his eyes when he’d told her he was leaving. The fear, hollowness and helplessness of watching him walk away without a backward glance.