Page 40 of So in Love
8
Damn, damn, damn.
Crystal gripped the steering wheel as she turned out of the Westcotts’ subdivision toward Ribbon Ridge.Alaina’s house—and Crystal’s home away from home—was south of town, and she’d need to drive through to get there.
Agitation ate at her, and she pulled over near The Arch and Vine.Maybe a beer would help soothe her.She reached for her purse on the passenger seat, and her gaze landed on the bag she’d stashed on the floor.It was for Jamie.She’d planned to give it to him after dinner at his loft.
Yep, she’d planned on going there.For a casual, no-strings thing, she’d certainly become addicted.
Was that a bad thing?It was still casual.And there were no strings.Then why did she feel bad?Because going to his parents’ house without telling them about the KKK connectionhadbeen a dick move.
Ugh.
She pulled her purse into her lap and rested her head on the steering wheel.She wasn’t sure how long she stayed like that, but looked up when she began to get cold.That was when she saw Jamie’s car down the block turning onto his street.
Before she could change her mind, she grabbed the bag and stepped out of the car.Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she pressed the lock on the fob and scouted the street before hurrying across.
A couple of minutes later, she stood outside his building and pressed the call button for his loft.But there was no answer.Maybe he wasn’t up there yet.
She drew her phone from her purse and used her teeth to pull off her glove.She texted him, her fingers growing instantly cold.
Can I come up?
It took a minute for his response:Sure, I just got here.
The buzzer sounded, and she went inside to the elevator.A few minutes later, she walked down the corridor to his loft.The door was ajar, something he’d done the past two nights she’d come over after he’d buzzed her up.
Gingerly, she pushed the door wider and stepped inside.He wasn’t in the entry, so she closed the door and made her way into the kitchen.He stood at the counter, popping open a beer.
“Hey.”She stepped to the island and set the bag on the granite, then deposited her purse next to it.“I brought you something.”She pulled the item from the bag and held it out.“It’s an organizer.I thought you could put it in the corner of the counter over there and use it to collect your papers and mail and whatnot.”
He took it from her and studied it.“That’s cool.”
“If you don’t like it, let me know.I got it on Amazon—I have two.”
His gaze found hers and was surprisingly warm.“Thank you.That was really thoughtful.”
She didn’t realize how tense she’d been until this moment because her insides relaxed.She felt for a second that she might sag onto the floor.But no, there was still a little bit of anxiety left over.“Iamusually thoughtful—just ask Alaina.I blew it with you and your folks, though.I’m so sorry, Jamie.”
He put the organizer in the corner and immediately shoved some papers into the bottom rack.He turned back toward her.“You want a beer?”
“Sure.”
He pulled one from the fridge and popped the cap off before handing it to her.“I appreciate you apologizing.I explained to my parents that you felt bad about surprising them like that.”
She sipped her beer, swallowing quickly to say, “And I totally do.I should’ve told you.Can I blame all the incredible sex we’re having?It’s super distracting.”
He laughed loudly, his eyes glowing with humor.“Um, yeah.I think you can blame that.Tonight, I couldn’t wait to get you back here, and then you brought up the KKK.”He sobered, his lips drawing into a tight grimace.
She set her beer down and took his hand in hers.“Hopefully, you can see that I didn’t really want to bring it up.In fact, I was incredibly nervous even mentioning it to your mom.That has to be so awful to hear.”
“You aren’t kidding.So basically my great-great-great-grandfather—or whatever—was a KKK leader?That’s disgusting.That’s beyond disgusting.It’s horrifying.”He shuddered.
Her shoulders twitched in sympathy.“Hey, one of my ancestors actually owned slaves.”
“Wow, that’s also horrifying.”He picked up his beer bottle and clacked it against hers.“Here’s to the current generation not being assholes.”He took a drink.“Ugh, assholes doesn’t even cut it.Did they—my family—have something to do with what you’ve been researching?”
She hesitated, but not because she didn’t want to tell him—it was his family, and he deserved to know.Still, it wasn’t something he’d enjoy hearing.“The letter that Darryl—he’s the guy at the historical society who’s been leading a lot of the research—found is from a guy in Lane County.Some jerk named Dell Beatty wrote to your ancestor, Redmond Stowe, to confirm that they would set the brothel on fire on July 28, 1902.He mentioned torches and the ‘whorehouse’ going up like a tinderbox.”
