Love Heals (The Love Duet Book 2) Page 4

  He handed over the house they’d shared fully furnished and simply took over his childhood home, giving Sheila permission to do whatever she wanted with the furnishings. Which of course Sheila did exactly what Jason said and got rid of the purple, and the over-stuffed couches and chairs and bought all new things.

  I suspected she did that to help Jason feel more comfortable when he visited and maybe just a little because of the colours. Let’s face it, Zoe had a love affair with the different shades of purple taking it to new heights of obsession.

  All he had left of his wife was Shiloh and the car.

  “Yeah, like I’m going to drive her car. The last time I took out a car, I hit a give way sign and Jason had to smooth things over with the authorities so I wouldn’t get into too much trouble,” I muttered, as I shoved the ingredients I needed to make dinner for Jason in my bag.

  I knew his work schedule for the week and was pretty familiar with his routine at the compound. Going by the Felix The Cat clock on the wall in my kitchen I surmised he would be at the compound catching up with his brothers and relaxing after his shift, giving me at least two hours to get the pressure cooker on and do some laundry then leave before he arrived home.

  Normally, I enjoyed him sitting at his kitchen island watching me prepare his meals, talking to me about anything and everything. Being around Jason was easy for me, he knew me, and he got me– most of the time. Admittedly, I drove him batty at times with my walking and independent streak. His overprotective nature couldn’t comprehend why I refused help, other than making sure I spoke to something or someone other than the plants or my animals or was using the security system he installed for me.

  Our talks were getting harder for me, Jason had no idea that just being around him was getting too much for me. I was in love with him, pure and simple but he had no feelings for me other than as a friend. He didn’t treat me like a little sister, I never got that vibe from him. From Deck yes, but not Jason, he felt more of a responsibility towards me. After all, he did arrest my mother and catch the man who kidnapped and scared me for life. All of that on the same night he lost his wife.

  Hefting the calico bag filled with groceries over my shoulder, I scooped up the bread maker in my arms and trudged up the passageway to the front door. I didn’t usually use the front entrance of my house; the five locks took forever to get through, especially with an arm load. But going the back way meant Sassy might see me leave and that was a whole other problem. First, she would insist on going with me, which meant walking slower because she was too fat for anything faster than a slow plod. Then there was the street to cross, and with a three hundred dollar bread machine in my arms, I wasn’t risking Sassy needing to be rescued from an oncoming car.

  I muttered through the process of unlocking the dead bolts, releasing the security bar and the door jammer before starting on the two locks on the metal security screen door.

  Issues Kelsey, you have major issues.

  “Shit, shit, shit.”

  The sound of a muscle car pulling in the driveway caught me unawares.

  When I arrived at Jason’s the first thing I did was put the piece of meat in the pressure cooker and got the bread mixture in the maker. From there, I followed the trail of destruction that was Jason’s house. Once I got the first load of laundry going, the bathroom was my next destination which needed some major attention, and so it went. I meant to be out a half hour ago, but the house plants Jason had scattered around the rooms beckoned me, and I ended up dashing home for some potting mix and now— I was out of time hearing the back-screen door open and slam shut.

  Shit, I forgot I left the door open to let the smell of bleach dissipate.

  “Kelsey?”

  Sighing audibly, I tucked the cleaning bucket back in the cupboard then walked out of the laundry room to the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked bread making my stomach growl reminding me I had not eaten since breakfast this morning.

  “Hey Jason, sorry I lost track of time. Let me grab my stuff and I will be out of your hair,” I said quickly, not looking at him because if I did I knew he would be wearing tight worn jeans and that sexy leather cut. And me being me, I would probably just moan or let out some embarrassing sound and he would smirk knowingly at me and I just wasn’t in the mood for that tonight.

  “Kelsey look at me.” His commanding tone pulled a silent moan from my core.

  Traitorous cow.

  Turning my head, I looked over my shoulder giving Jason my unmarred side.

  “Yeah?” I asked as innocently as I could meeting his narrowed blue eyes.

  Damn he has beautiful eyes.

  A low frustrated sigh left his kissable lips, his eyes looking around the kitchen seeing the clean benches and the empty sink.

  “Sit down Mermaid,” he said, pointing to one of the stools at the island. I dropped my head in defeat, my hope for a quick exit now thwarted. Taking the spot next to the plate and cutlery I’d set out for Jason, I waited for him to give me what for as I sat. I already knew what was coming, he’d said it to me enough over the years I practically knew it word for word.

  You do too much for me Kelsey.

  Why do you clean my house Kelsey?

  My dirty laundry isn’t your responsibility Kelsey.

  When he stayed quiet for longer than I was expecting l looked up and saw him reaching into a cupboard for a plate and a glass. Without a word or so much as a glance my way, Jason plucked out another knife and fork from the drawer. He filled one glass with orange juice from the fridge, then popped the cap off a bottle of beer and placed it in front of his plate. Next, he then lifted the lid off the cooled off pressure cooker and proceeded to scoop the already carved slices of corned beef and vegetables onto both plates. The bread I made was already sliced and buttered, so once he finished serving, he made his way to his stool and sat down.

  “Eat,” he demanded, picking up his fork and pointing at my plate of food then dug into the thick slices of tender beef, homegrown sweet vegetables and potatoes.

  Jason wasn’t a fussy eater; he leaned towards meals of the meat and two veg variety. He also had bread with his meals, always.

  Over the years I had managed to get him to include hot dinner rolls, freshly baked, rather than just his usual choice of bread slathered with butter. His diet was appalling most of the time, which was why I took over preparing meals for him. Some, I froze for those nights he didn’t get off work till really late. Others were ready for him to dish up when he arrived home, and some nights I didn’t cook for him at all. Those were the nights he spent at the Wounded Souls’ compound.

  My belly rolled just thinking about him sleeping there, never once had I seen Jason bring a woman home with him. The only female he let into his home other than Shiloh and his mother, was me. And I wasn’t there to warm his bed.

  Jason was a man, a devastatingly handsome man. He had to have needs, right?

  The compound was a place where beautiful women went to dance and party with the single members. I saw the inside of the place just one time, when Stella forgot that I had a delivery for her but she’d closed the bakery early and asked me to drop off the order to the compound.

  I admit now that I had been scared shitless when I walked through the large gates and saw the hugeness of the property. It had once been a boy’s home with one large main building and several surrounding outbuildings, a massive car park and courtyard- which I presumed used to be the boy’s playground. Grassed off areas and an adventure themed playground finished off the massive outside area.

  Then I went inside. I didn’t know at the time what to expect, in the back of my mind I suppose I assumed dark rooms filled with smoke and loose women.

  Boy, I learned that day that presuming was wrong.

  The biggest room, or the main room, which was what the members called it, was bright and cheerful. Lots of comfy, overstuffed lounging chairs and sofas. A massive bar on one side of the room, and the other, a dining table big enough to seat every sin
gle member of the club, spouses, significant others and offspring. The kids even had their own section of the room littered with toys ranging from infants, and toddlers to young kids. The older kids, which there was only a handful to my memory, had a large TV and gaming consoles. There was even a Karaoke machine for the kids to annoy their parents.

  I liked the atmosphere of the place, but for me there were too many people, too much noise and chatter. The whole time I had been there music played constantly in the background, and while not overbearing or obnoxious, I preferred the peace and quiet of my house and garden.

  The differences between Jason and I started to settle in my mind. He was part of a huge extended family. I was alone.

  He had responsibilities, Shiloh, Bastian, his job and his club.

  I had my animals and garden.

  In what world did I really think he would be interested in me?

  Gah, such a nitwit Kelsey.

  Picking up my fork, I filled my mouth with food before I spewed out my inner thoughts, and asked Jason about his bed partners. Or worse, asked him if I could be one. I was barely on my third forkful when Jason dropped his to the plate with a clatter and picked up his beer taking a swig. I watched without shame as his throat worked up and down with each gulp, the way his lips wrapped around the rim of the bottle. His long, strong fingers gripping the neck of the bottle with just the right amount of force.

  What I wouldn’t give to be a bottle of Fosters right now.

  “So, did you do it today?” Jason asked me casually, the bottle now down on the bench top, his eyes on me waiting for me to answer.

  My mouth was full of tender meat but that didn’t stop the piece from getting stuck in my throat.

  Oh my god did he really just ask me that?

  Trying my best to cough up the morsel of beef without making a complete fool of myself, I covered my mouth while Jason slapped me lightly on the back helping me.

  “Jesus Mermaid, don’t choke on me,” he said chuckling, but that just sent me into another coughing fit. What the Dickins was he suggesting?

  “Excuse me, sorry it went down the wrong way,” I said rather lamely. Desperately trying to get control of myself and my body.

  Wetness gushed between my thighs at just the vision of Jason’s dick in my mouth, his fingers curled around the back of my head gently guiding my mouth—

  “Kelsey!”

  Jumping slightly on my stool, I pushed away the visionary splendour currently running through my mind. “Huh?”

  “What is wrong with you tonight Kels? Maybe you should ease up on the bleach sweetheart.” The smirk on his face told me he had an idea where my mind had gone just now.

  Huffing at him, I pushed my plate aside deciding I was finished with my meal, but Jason got it into his head he was in charge of my well-being again and pulled the plate back then handed me my fork.

  “So, again, did you do all that walking you mentioned this morning?”

  Narrowing my eyes at his heavy-handedness, I reluctantly stuffed my mouth with more beef. I was glad though, I needed food and when I went without too long I got hangry.

  I made him wait until I chewed the tender meat ten times, not that it needed that much chewing, being cooked in the pressure cooker made the meat practically fall apart and needed little chewing. But, I was annoyed with him so I chose to be immature.

  “Yes, I did. First, I dropped off the eggplants to Mrs Karas then some vegetables to Lake’s shop and a small delivery to Stella’s cake and lolly shop.”

  Stella Booth, the wife of the Wounded Souls’ President, opened a specialty shop a few years ago. She only sold her famous slices and gooey treats plus she had a delicious range of old fashioned lollies and sweets. There was no dining in, coffee or lunches, just sugar-filled goodness. The local kids loved it as did the big kids, more than once while dropping off my homemade lemon curd and honey from my hives had I seen big tattooed bikers entering the shop with drool pooled at the corner of their mouths.

  At first, when she opened I had been worried that my orders with Lake’s café and bakery would dwindle with the competition, but Stella insisted on meeting with not only Lake but with me as well. She assured both of us that her shop would only be selling homemade slices and lollies. She was not interested in doing sandwiches, coffee or offering a sit-down service. Her first priority was her husband and son and her position as cook at the compound.

  Jason told me not long ago that after she had some time off from full-time cooking at the club she needed to do something different. So, Stella’s Slices and Treats opened and thank god it did. Her orders for honey, lemon curd, jams and just lately lemongrass for a new slice she had created, kept my bank account ticking over.

  “So, you walked over five kilometres today? Then came back here and cleaned my house, cooked my food and did my laundry.”

  The tone of Jason’s question rankled me. Why the hell did it piss him off so much? I had the time, and it really didn’t bother me. My day in the garden didn’t often last past noon, and if I had no deliveries, then I found I had far too much time on my hands before my evening routine of feeding the animals began. Frustrated with the same old argument, I pushed myself off the stool and gathered his plate and mine and headed to the sink.

  “Can we not go over this for the hundredth time Jason. You don’t need to feel obligated to me in anyway. I’m not doing this to get you into my pants so, will you just leave it for heaven’s sake.” Placing the dishes in the sink a little too vigorously I smashed one plate and a small shard cut my finger. “Damn it!” I muttered tiredly. It wasn’t often I let my temper get the better of me, but I was tired, had sore feet and Jason’s constant bickering about me being nice had my nerves frayed.

  “Mermaid!” Jason came up behind me, his large powerful arms wrapped around me, to take my hand in his. My body betrayed my bad mood, shivering from the contact.

  “It doesn’t look too bad sweetheart, but we should clean it up and cover it with a band-aid, okay?” Grabbing a tea towel from the hook on the wall to the left of the sink, Jason wrapped my finger in it and led me to the kitchen table, bypassing the island bench.

  Sitting in one of the chairs he knelt in front of me, a look of concern marred his handsome face as he went about inspecting the cut. To my utter horror, tears pooled in my eyes, seeing the tenderness in the way he held my hand in his. His calloused hands, rough and large looked somehow right holding my smaller one. Despite my work in the garden, my hands were still soft, thanks to the fact that I wore gardening gloves.

  My mother could never be described as a June Cleaver type. Her neglect of her only child was well-known amongst the people of our street and to a lot of people in town, but she did have her moments of softness, not many, but she offered occasional motherly advice.

  “Always look after your hands and neck, Kelsey. They are the first signs of aging, no man wants wrinkled hands on their dicks, nor do they want to kiss a turkey neck. Remember that and they might just overlook your plain Jane looks.”

  Okay, so the delivery wasn’t exactly nurturing, but I took notice. I moisturised, morning and night after cleansing my face and never went without sunblock, a hat or garden gloves. As a result, my skin was taut, supple and the colour of porcelain, the downside was my scar stood out like a sore thumb against my pale skin. More tears formed, falling down my cheeks. Jason’s alarmed expression nearly making me laugh through my tears.

  Way to make a guy feel special Kels.

  “Look Kels, I know you like looking after me. I don’t necessarily get why, but if it makes you feel better I will lay off the lectures,” Jason promised urgently, no doubt wishing the crying, hysterical woman in his kitchen would just disappear.

  Wiping my face with the back of my sleeves, I nodded my head slowly. How did I explain to him what it meant to me to be… useful in his life?

  “Jason, you look after me too. You put a security system in my house, and you see that I talk to at least one human being every cou
ple of days. I know that the bikes that come down the street slowly going past my house are your friends from the club checking on me.” Pausing, I gathered the strength to say what I knew he didn’t want to hear. “You saved my life, and despite this,” I pointed to the scar on my face, “you never treat me any different, never look away from the ugliness. You see me even though everyone else thinks I’m a weird loner with a drug addict for a mother.”

  Jason bowed his head, his mouth falling to my hands, his lips pressing a soft kiss to my injured hand shocking me. Jason was careful not to touch me in loving ways, he didn’t do love, or anything resembling it. Shiloh was a different kettle of fish, he adored and worshipped his niece, the kid could bring out the loving nature of a serial killer.

  “Kelsey, don’t say such things about yourself again. There is absolutely nothing ugly about you, not your personality and certainly not your face. What your mother did to you was abhorrent, no child should ever experience what you did throughout your childhood. No one thinks you are weird honey, and if some of them can’t look and see what I do, then fuck ‘em. You don’t need people like that in your life.”

  I was still stuck on the fact Jason kissed my hand, I nearly missed his beautiful words. Did he really think that about my scar? Surely, he could see the puckered skin that ran half way down my face? Everyone else could, children stared at me, men averted their eyes when they passed me and the ones that gawked openly at me whispered horrible things about my mother, then made fun of me.

  People could be so cruel, I might have had a scar on my face, but my hearing was perfectly fine, my feelings very much still able to be hurt. I didn’t know if it was because I was physically tired, or because of Jason’s close proximity and his kindness, but I chose that exact moment to ugly cry. I’m talking snorts, gagging on my own spit, a howling kind of a thing.

  “Is it, too… too much to ask… for someone to… have sex with… me?” I blubbered, all moral codes and dignity forgotten about in the moment. It was if the dam burst and the villagers were running for their lives not caring who they stomped on in the process.