In Place of Never (19 page)

“Always. First, don’t keep Nadya away. I want to talk with her. Second, I think you could ask nicer. ‘Be my date’ sounds like an order. Not very nice.”

He bit his lip, tugging the silver ring with his teeth and prodding it with his tongue.

My nerve waned. Would he retract his invitation?

Cross pinned me with his gaze until my blood boiled. He moved, slow and serious, planting his hands on either side of me. His chest rose over mine, pressing me back. My heart rate spiked and my palms slid against warm shingles. My hair splayed over the roof at my back. Without breaking our stare, he lowered himself to me.

“Mercy?” He kissed my jaw. His lips warmed my earlobe and teased the tiny hoops I’d slid in before church. “May I ask you a question?”

“Mm-hmm.” I wiggled beneath him, shimmying up the low-angled roof, away from the gutters, into the moonlight. Cross was everywhere. His cologne mixed with scents of shampoo and cinnamon.

He followed me over the shingles, never letting me out of kissing distance. When I stopped, his chin dipped swiftly. He caught the skin of my neck in his lips and suckled. The stubble of his cheeks rubbed my shoulder as he tilted his head farther, garnering greater access to my flesh.

“Question?” I panted the word.

His dark eyes swam back into view. Mischief colored his face. “A question? Let me think.” He dropped kisses along the ridge of my collarbone, nudging the fabric of my shirt lower with each caress.

No longer able to resist, I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him to me. He complied with a low groan that rumbled in his chest and sent chills down both my thighs. I wrapped my fingers in his hair to keep them from roaming, but my back arched, traitorously. So much for playing it cool. “Okay. I accept. I’ll go with you tomorrow. Please stop asking.”

He chuckled against my neck. “I like asking.”

I liked his victorious tone. I pressed my palms to his chest. “I have to see Faith soon. I didn’t go after church today.”

“What if I meet you there and you can introduce us?”

I frowned. “Are you teasing me?”

Moonlight cast shadows over his cheeks, from the straight lines of his brow. He had the chiseled jaw of a movie star and the lips of a saint. Maybe not a saint.

Worry creased his furrowed brow. “Was that weird of me again? I wasn’t teasing. I don’t know anyone else in your situation. I thought since you talk to her…”

My lips were on his before he finished the sentence. He didn’t think I was crazy or demented for talking to my sister’s grave. He wanted me to introduce them. I smiled as our lips connected. He accepted my quirks and he held me like he never wanted to let go. Another part of my hardened heart melted free. Our lips parted and I gasped. His tongue dipped into my mouth, sliding warm and wet against mine. I burned for more of his touches. Sparks of possibility ignited my limbs. What else could he do? What else could we do?

Far too soon, he rolled free of my grip and pulled me to his chest. We rested against the warm angled roof and listened to our breaths and heartbeats settle. Cross looped his arm around me, protectively. “Next time you sneak out, come to my camper. I can’t promise not to roll off this roof if you keep kissing me like that.” He pressed his lips to my forehead.

I wound my fingers in his shirt and imagined how the night might end in the privacy of his trailer. “Deal.”

He lifted onto his elbows. “I hate to kiss and run, and I swear I didn’t come here to attack you like that, but I need to get home. I used the lunch invitation as an excuse to see you. I could’ve texted the invite.” He smiled. “So much less personal that way.”

I pressed fingertips to my lips and cheeks. The cool of my skin helped ease the seductive sting.

“Your face is red.” He curled his hand around my chin and touched my lips with his thumb.

“I think it’s from your stubble.”

His eyes widened in alarm. He scrubbed a palm over his face. “Oh, ow. Are you okay? I’m sorry.”

I smiled and kissed his lips. “I’m fine.”

“Next time, I’ll shave. Promise.”

There was no non-ridiculous way to tell him I liked it, so I walked him back to the tree with a fiery blush. “We should do this again.”

He nodded. “Tomorrow? Same time. Same rooftop?”

“’Kay.”

“Text me when you go see Faith.” He pulled me into a hug before scaling the tree and dropping back onto the lawn.

I had a date.

Inside my room, I stifled a squeal and leaned against the wall, reliving his kisses.

The branch outside my window brushed the glass and I froze. Did he come back without texting first? Did he forget something? I leaned through the open window. “Cross?”

A scan of the yard revealed no sign of Cross or any creeping shadows like the one I thought I saw earlier. The night was still. Too still. I jerked my head back inside. There was no breeze. What rattled the tree? I slid the window shut and secured the lock before pulling the curtain.

It was only my imagination. There was nothing in the tree. No one was on the lawn.

I crawled onto the bed with my phone.

It was definitely time to invite Pru up for a movie.

Romantic or Creepy?

I crouched in the fresh-cut grass beside Faith’s headstone. Crisp morning air filled my lungs, damp with dew and the sweet scent of wildflowers. The reluctant sun made another appearance, chasing away the summer storms of last week and delivering unbearable July heat as promised by local weathermen. Every lawn mower in town had run until nightfall for two days straight, fighting the overgrown grass and weeds gorged by days of rain. Hundreds of birds settled in our fields, filling up on earthworms and bugs eager to emerge from hiding. From my seat at the top of Cemetery Hill, the world was pristine and shiny with a haze of morning fog.

My silver flip-flops revealed Pru’s handiwork with nail polish and a toothpick. She’d magically created a universe of silver and gold stars on both my big toe nails after painting them black to match my fingernails. My jeans rested warmly on my hips, snugger than they’d been in months. With Dad at home, the house always smelled of food. He made breakfast and lunch. Fruit, salad, and protein for dinner. Somehow I’d eaten more than a few bites at every meal, instead of once a day. Ironically, the more I ate, the louder my stomach requested more. I tipped my travel mug skyward. The final dregs of coffee teased my tongue.

“If only things were what they seemed, Faith.” I patted her stone. “Up is down. Left is right. The more answers I get, the more questions I have.”

I settled onto the dewy grass and stretched my legs out in front of me. “Everything’s so weird. I wish you were here. I’m really sorry you aren’t.”

The sun glistened over the distant, roaring river. I steadied myself for the truth of my next statement. She needed to hear. “Last night something hit me. Hard. The kind of realization that takes your breath. Do you know what I mean? I bet you do. So, here it is: I don’t think I had anything to do with what happened to you.”

My limbs felt lighter. The truth of the words lifted my heart. Speaking them aloud released me. “For a long time, I blamed myself. I thought you’d be at college right now if I hadn’t covered for you that night, but I talked to Vanessa at church on Sunday. She covered for you too. Late last night a mental switch flipped. It wasn’t a crime that you asked us to cover for you, and it wasn’t a crime that we agreed. How many other times had I covered for you and everything went fine? I think blame was my way of holding on to the pain of your loss because if I stopped being sad you were gone, you might think I stopped caring you were gone, but those aren’t the same, and I’m ready to let that go.” I tipped my chin high and closed my eyes. The sun warmed my cheeks and nose. “What do you think?”

A branch snapped and my eyes flashed open. I popped onto my knees and looked through the vast reaching fingers of ancient trees and endless rows of graves, mausoleums, and wrought iron fences. A pair of squirrels scurried up the side of a wide oak.

I flopped back into place. “Sorry. I think I traded depression and reclusiveness for paranoia and caffeine addiction. Getting my days turned around is harder than you’d think. It’s playing with my mind. I’m trying to sleep when normal people sleep and stay awake all day.” I sighed. “When do normal people sleep? I don’t think we even know any.”

A flock of geese flew overhead, honking and casting shadows on the world below. Their V-formation made me smile. Some things were constant, predictable, like the raging river after endless summer storms. White froth churned at the river’s edge, gathered on protruding rocks and glistened in the sun. White water rafters loved these days.

Movement registered in my periphery and I scrambled to my feet. “Hello?” My heartbeat raced against my ribs. I squinted into the distance, turning in a slow circle for complete analysis.

“I don’t know, Faith. I’m losing it lately. I thought I saw someone in the yard the other night, or maybe in the tree.” My mouth dried. The memory rushed forward. “It’s silly, I know, but…” The sensation someone had lurked in our yard terrified me. “I probably imagined the whole thing, but the urge to hide was so strong I agreed to watch a movie about Pru’s favorite boy band. The movie was ridiculous, but the boys were kind of cute.” Maybe I had a thing for singers and never knew it? “I get inside my head sometimes, and I go a little crazy. You were the creative one, but my imagination is Hollywood-quality.”

Soft whistling carried on the morning breeze. Cross marched up the hill with a messenger bag and a drink. Black jeans clung to his skin. A simple white T-shirt accented his olive skin and dark features. Eyes that had seemed forlorn and mysterious the day we met appeared tender and honest now. His long fingers wrapped around a cup from White Water coffee. The giant red straw was twice the cup’s height. He’d kept his ridiculous promise. I’d bet the cup even had a flag on it somewhere.

I angled my face to Faith. “This guy makes my brain stop working.”

Cross waved a hand overhead. “Morning.”

“Hey.” A flutter of excitement washed through me. I’d paired my favorite white tank top with comfy jeans and a long-sleeve black-and-white patterned blouse. I’d left the blouse unbuttoned and prayed for a breeze. In hindsight, shorts would’ve helped. The pull between pride and fear tore me in half every time I left home. Dress for the weather and look normal or dress to hide the scars and look dumb? If I hid the scars, I avoided pity stares. If I hid the scars, people stared anyway, wondering why I dressed for fall in the middle of July. Then again, everyone probably knew why.

He arrived at my side with a smile. “You look pretty. Going somewhere?”

“I have a lunch date.”

“Gah. Lucky bastard. Coffee?”

“Thanks.”

Cross tugged the obnoxious straw and wiggled his eyebrows. “Can you trust me to come through on a promise or what?” He nodded in affirmation. “First, I had to convince the guy behind the counter to look for one of these fabulous cup-straw combos. He said all the Fourth of July stuff was gone, but I can be persuasive, charming really. Then I wasn’t sure what you usually put in the cup, but thankfully you live in a town the size of my last high school, so I asked. Iced white mocha soy.” He bowed.

“You asked the guy at the counter about me?” That was definitely getting back to Dad.

Cross straightened. “Is that okay?”

I shook my head. “Yeah. No. It’s fine,” I stammered. “Thank you. I mean, Dad goes there every day.” Argh! Guilt thickened my throat. “I wish I could introduce you. He’d like you if he met you, you know?” My confidence wavered. We both knew that was a lie. Only it wasn’t. Not really. He’d like Cross if he could put down his crusade against the Lovells and live his sermons on loving one another without judgment.

Cross stuffed his fingers into his pockets. “Invite me over.”

My chest tightened. If I invited Cross over and Dad was a jerk, Cross might not come back. If Dad refused to let him in, Dad and I would fight. I’d just gotten Dad back. Kind of. I couldn’t upset that yet, especially so soon before I left.

Cross stepped into my personal space and snaked strong arms around my waist. “Don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal. Forget I said it, okay?”

“It’s just…”

“Hey, don’t.” He leaned back and looked into my eyes. “I get it. I know what the Lovells look like to outsiders…what I look like. We have a few more weeks together. Let’s enjoy them however we can.” Remorse colored his words. He wanted to know my dad.

Wow. Shit.

I hugged him. “Maybe you can come to church next week?” His cinnamon-cologne-shampoo combo comforted me.

Cross twisted at the waist and turned his gaze to Faith’s stone. “Do I get an introduction?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Happiness bubbled through the awkward. “Cross, this is my sister, Faith. Faith, this is Cross, my…” Uh-oh. I fell right into that one.

Cross waited with lifted brows. “Your…”

I pressed my lips together and fought a blush. “Friend.”

He released me and fixed a challenging expression over his handsome face. “I have it on good authority you don’t kiss all your friends the way you kiss me.” He narrowed deep brown eyes on me. “Have you told her about that yet?”

I stepped closer and pressed my cheek to his chest. “Shut up. She approves.”

Cross kissed my head. “Good. Can we stay a while?”

Words eluded me. He wanted to hang with me in a cemetery? Was that creepy or really sweet? “When is lunch?”

“Rose said noon. We have an hour before we need to leave.”

“Um. Okay. Sure.” I nodded. “Yeah.” A smile opened my lips.

Cross removed his messenger bag and pulled out a thin blanket. He spread it on the ground. “What do you think? Is this super-lame, or do I get some boyfriend points?”

My smile grew. “You want boyfriend points?”

“Yeah. I have no idea how they work, but I’m thinking it’s in my best interest to collect as many as possible for future redemption.”

My mind whirled around the word boyfriend. What a silly inconsequential, juvenile word. So, why did it thrill me to my core? I sat on the blanket and busied my mouth, working the giant red straw.