The Complete Rixton Falls Series by Winter Renshaw

Author:Winter Renshaw [Renshaw, Winter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-10-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Derek

“You’re up early.” I pour a mug of coffee as Serena tiptoes from her side of my apartment, red hair piled into a messy bun on top of her head and a hint of creamy skin peeking out from beneath her cotton pajama tank top. “Coffee?”

She yawns, taking a barstool. “Please.”

I pour her a cup, wondering how long we’re going to dance around what happened last night.

“There you go.” I slide it across the island, and our eyes meet. There’s nothing there. No unspoken words. No threat of a rehashing of last evening’s topic of conversation.

Good.

My gaze lands on her pink lips, a self-punishing move. She notices. And I know better.

Still, Serena says nothing, lifting the steaming mug to her mouth and watching me gather my things.

“Sleep well?” I shove a stack of papers inside my messenger bag, followed by my laptop.

“That bed is heavenly,” she says.

I laugh. “That or you were really exhausted. What’s your plan today?”

“Thought I’d look for a place,” she says. “Put that new laptop to good use.”

“The Wi-Fi password is Haven2012.”

“Thank you,” she says. “I’ll remember that. Any areas you recommend?”

“Hershfield Park is great. So is Marigold Heights. Steer clear of Pilton Street and Main. Bad area.”

“Got it.”

“I’m picking up Haven tonight after work.” I hoist my bag over my shoulder and glance across the kitchen at an image of Serena bathed in morning sun, sitting comfortably at my kitchen island. Her tongue glides along her lips, licking fresh coffee, and she smiles. I think she’s doing it on purpose, but I can’t be sure. Like she said last night, I don’t know her. “I assume you’ll be itching to get out at that point. I can swing by and pick you up. It’s a two-hour drive.”

Serena straightens her back and places the cup in front of her. “Oh, um. Sure. I’ll come along. If that’s okay with you.”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t okay.” My response is rather curt, and I almost feel like an asshole.

“What time?” Her voice is sweet, unassuming. Forgiving almost.

Which makes me feel like an even bigger ass for brushing her off last night.

But Goddamn it, she needs to believe me when I say I’m not what she needs.

Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned the kiss. I was playing with fire, and I knew it. And I regretted it the instant the words left my lips, because it turns out that Serena Randall is just as much of an arsonist as I am.

Regardless, the number Kyla did on me left deep scars that have yet to heal. The idea of marriage, of spending the rest of forever with one person, holds zero appeal to me. As far as I’m concerned, no one can be truly trusted, and everyone’s a fucking self-serving liar when the conditions are right.

Frivolous emotions tend to dull common sense, and the bullshit feelings that some people call love tends to turn brilliant, headstrong men into bumbling idiots. I don’t see the point in love or marriage or anything that could steal a man’s God-given right to be happy.

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