The Summer He Came Home (Bad Boys of Crystal Lake 1)

“I worry about things that I probably shouldn’t and…” She bit her lip, attempted a smile. “Never mind.”

That got his attention. Cain sat up. “What’s going on, Maggie?”

She pulled the blanket up across her naked breasts and ran fingers across her temple. “Nothing. I said drop it.”

“I’m not going to drop it. Something is obviously bothering you, and I want to know what the hell it is.”

That heavy weight on his chest, the one that had plagued him for the last few days, was back. It had always been Cain’s experience that when his world tipped too far into good, it usually bottomed out and swung back the other way. Like a little slap in the face to remind him that it didn’t matter to the big guy upstairs who the hell he was.

She exhaled and sat up to face him. Her hair hung in crimson ropes around her shoulders, and with sleep still heavy in her eyes, her skin makeup-free, she looked like a damned Lolita. His body hardened instantly. She was like a drug he couldn’t get enough of, and he felt a twinge of anger at the thought of how she affected him.

At the control the woman possessed, whether she knew it or not.

Cain rolled his shoulders and tried to relax.

“I’m just… Michael is getting attached to you, and I’m a little worried about what’s going to happen when…” She paused as if gathering her thoughts, and then she spoke in a rush, as if the words tasted bad. “When you leave Crystal Lake.”

“You’re worried about Michael.”

She frowned. “Of course I’m worried about Michael. I’m his mother. It’s my job to worry.”

Cain stared at her for several moments. “And what about you, Maggie? Would you miss me if I wasn’t around?” He didn’t know how tense he was until he let go of the sheet clutched between his fingers.

Something flickered in the depths of her eyes. She held his gaze for several seconds and then looked away. “Are we really going to have this conversation now?”

“What conversation?” He didn’t like where this was headed and cursed himself for opening a can of worms.

She shrugged. “We both know you’ll be leaving eventually. The question is, when? After the fundraiser? At the end of July? Maybe you’ll stay until August or September. I don’t know. It’s not like you’ve shared your plans with me, but you will leave us behind.”

His mother’s words echoed in his head, and he winced, more than a little pissed because there was truth in her words.

“Maggie—”

“Don’t, Cain.” She shook her head. “Seriously, you don’t have to say anything. It is what it is.” She smiled, a tremulous, beautiful smile. “I have no regrets, if that’s what you’re thinking. None. I just…I don’t want Michael to be hurt when you leave.”

She sounded like she’d already said good-bye, and it pissed him off. How the hell did she know what he thought? What he felt or wanted?

Fuck, he didn’t even know what the hell was going on in his head.

“What if I don’t leave?” he asked, the words slipping out of him before he had a chance to grab them back. He didn’t like this serious turn. The bubble was about to burst, and he had a feeling the next few minutes were going to be a turning point in his relationship with Maggie. Whether it was good or bad was the question of the day.

She looked at him as if he had two heads. “Of course you’re going to leave. You don’t belong in Crystal Lake.”

Her words lit the fuse that had already sparked. “How the hell do you know where I belong? Are you a fucking mind reader now?” His words were harsh. He threw off the covers and slipped from her bed, searching for the jeans he’d thrown off the night before. The floor was a tangled mess of their clothes.

Clothes that had been torn and tossed in haste, because at the time all they could think about was getting naked and having sex. Maybe that’s all he was to her. Wouldn’t that be ironic? He was the quick lay, the rocker stud who would eventually go away.

Maybe that’s what she wanted.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Cain, I just…” She stared at him, obviously confused. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Cain slipped into his jeans and grabbed his shirt off the end of the bed. Once he had his boots on, his anger had tempered somewhat but not enough to take the bite out of his words. “The truth would be a great start.”

Her cheeks flushed pink at that, and she sat up straight, the sheet falling dangerously low. “The truth? What are you talking about? I’ve never lied to you.”

“Because you haven’t had to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”