Flirting with Love(37)

Ross could hardly believe what he was hearing—the confession or the plethora of information Trout was willingly sharing. “I can’t imagine deciding to give everything up, but then again, I can’t imagine knowing I was going to walk out the door and kill a man.”

“That’s because you’re not fucked up. You got blessed with the good brain and not the broken one.” Trout smiled a little; then his face grew serious again. “What’d I really give up? So I’ll never cure cancer or build a robot. Kid dreams, Doc. I got a roof over my head, books to read. Know why I waited until I was eighteen to do it?”

Ross shook his head.

“To make sure I was tried as an adult and would have no chance of getting out. Doc, if you can kill a man, you ain’t right. I just got lucky in the brains department, but something’s gotta be off to do that. Who knows how many people I kept safe.” With a shrug, Trout rose to his feet.

Ross followed. “Trout.” He didn’t know what to say. The man was as much a hero—for seeing the danger he presented to the world and for stepping in to do what his brother might have if he didn’t—as he was a criminal.

“Sometimes you gotta listen to that beatin’ lump of meat pumping blood in your chest, and you gotta do what you think’s right, when everything you’ve ever been taught tells you otherwise. You gotta let go of what you love so you can move forward knowing that despite it all, you helped someone else live the life they were meant to live. Yeah, I killed a man. A man who killed my mother, my dog, and who probably would have killed my brother had his sorry, demented ass ever tried to get revenge. I’m not proud of it, but when I found the asshole, you know what he had?”

Ross arched a brow, still stunned by the depth of Trout’s confession.

“My mother’s ring on his pinky, my dog’s collar hanging on the wall like a trophy. Ten years, Doc. Ten years later, he’s still got that shit.” He turned away, and when he turned back, his eyes were stone cold again.

“Trout, why are you telling me all this?”

“Because, Doc. You’re the only person who’s seen through my big-ass silence. You didn’t shut up or give me a wide berth like everyone else does. You trusted me with Storm, and you had no idea if I’d throttle him, or you, to death. You trusted me. I trust you with my secret.” Trout patted his leg. “Storm. Come.”

Storm came to his side and sat, his eyes trained on Trout. “Good boy.”

Ross watched him walk away and then caught up to him. “Trout, I gotta know. Why’d you ask to be in the program?”

He shrugged. “Selfish, I guess. I’m only human. I need to give and receive love.” Trout leaned in closer to Ross. “And no matter how long I’m in this shithole, I ain’t gonna do what some of these guys do to fill that need.” He rose to his full height again and gazed down at Storm. “Raisin’ a dog’s the closest thing I got to raisin’ a boy. Storm loves me no matter what I’ve done in my past.”

Ross didn’t even know how to respond. Was Trout brilliant or an idiot? Ross couldn’t make that call any better than Walt could have.

“Oh, Doc. One more thing. I got a rep to uphold.”

Ross smiled at that. “You’re a silent bastard who’ll rip someone’s throat out if they look at you sideways. I’ve got your back.”

Trout’s eyes softened, as did the tension around his mouth and across his forehead, and just as quickly as it had appeared, all that softness fell away, replaced with a cold, deadpan stare. He rounded his shoulders and headed for the door, and Ross headed home to Elisabeth, feeling as though he’d learned something about life and love—and how even when he had all the facts, there was no black and white.





Chapter Eighteen


WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON PASSED in a flurry of baking, delivering, and planning. Elisabeth was flying high from both her romantic picnic with Ross the evening before and the great afternoon she’d had with Jade. Three of Jade’s clients had already called to schedule grooming and massage appointments for their animals, and now all Elisabeth had to do was come up with a schedule to accommodate the baking and the pet pampering. One thing was clear, being a doggy chauffeur was proving to be a big time suck, no matter how much she didn’t mind the driving, or how much she loved the time with the dogs.

Her phone rang, pulling her from the kitchen table where she was working on devising a schedule. Her heartbeat quickened when she saw Ross’s name on the screen.

“Hi.” Why did she always sound breathless when she spoke to him? After their picnic by the lake, they’d spent the night at his house again, and already they were in a routine of taking care of the animals together in the mornings, having breakfast together, and her favorite part of the day, falling asleep in his arms.

“Hey, babe. Just wanted to see how your day was going.”

“I woke up with you. How could it be anything but great?”

His voice became seductively gravelly. “It’s like you read my mind. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“I found your note in my bag. Jesus, Lis, how can a piece of paper make my heart race?”

She smiled, because that was exactly the reaction she’d been hoping for when she left the sexy little promise. Crave you, miss you, can’t wait to kiss every inch of you.

“I don’t know, but I’m glad. Emily called. She’s coming by tonight to go over the kitchen designs.” She was looking forward to seeing what Emily had come up with.

“Wes called, too. If you’re going to be with Em, do you mind if I meet him and Luke for a drink after work?”

“Of course not. Have fun.”

“Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?” A feeling settled in the silence as she waited for him to respond. She’d felt it for days, a bubble of oneness that enveloped them every time they were together. Something sacred and precious, born of their emotions and consuming a little more of her every day. She’d fallen for him, and she’d fallen hard.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She thought he might say he loved her, and in the silence, she thought she might, too. After they ended the call, Elisabeth sat for a long while, soaking in those emotions and knowing that when the time was right, they’d both know. A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. On a sigh, she went to answer the door. A wiry woman with black frames on her pointy nose and an old tabby cat bundled in her arms stood on her porch.

“Hi.” Elisabeth opened the door.

“Elisabeth?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Alice Shalmer, and this is Flossie. I would have called, but, well, I’m old-school and I believe in visiting when you want to talk to someone.” Alice wore a simple blue cotton dress, belted at her waist, with a pair of flats.

She smiled, and Elisabeth stepped to the side and invited her in.

“Jim Trowell is a friend of mine, and not that I think I’m going to lose Flossie anytime soon, but he told me about how you massaged Gracie, and my sweet Flossie could really use a massage. I was wondering if you could fit her in one day.”

“Oh, Alice, of course. Come sit down, and I’ll do it now.” Maybe she should have been miffed at the interruption to her day, but Alice’s stopping by was refreshing. This was what she’d remembered about Trusty. How many times had people stopped by to see her aunt out of the blue while she was playing in the yard, and her aunt would spend an hour visiting with friends. In the confusion of trying to fit in, she’d almost forgotten how here, relationships didn’t rely on email and cell phones. While she was met with resistance for her first few weeks, she felt things changing, and Alice proved that. People were coming around, even if slowly.

She laid Flossie down on the couch and began massaging her back and belly. Flossie yawned, accompanied by a long, lazy stretch. She was obviously used to being stroked and pampered.

“She’s really sweet. You must touch her a lot. Cats are usually skittish with me.”

Alice’s gaze warmed, easing the crow’s-feet by her eyes and the worry lines that traveled across her forehead. “She’s a little spoiled, I’m afraid. I’ve had her since she was born. I’m almost embarrassed to say that she long ago claimed my bed pillow as her own.”

Elisabeth laughed. “I love that you let her.”

“Oh, I had no choice. Every night I’d say, Bedtime, and she’d follow me upstairs. While I was brushing my teeth, she settled in.” She leaned forward in the armchair where she was sitting. “Do you know that look that cats get, kind of like this.” She pursed her lips and drew her brows together.

“The I’m-the-queen look. Cats are so good at that. I’ll bet Flossie is a master.”

Alice sighed. “Well, she was. No need anymore. It’s her pillow, as I said. Now she smiles when I climb into bed.”

Elisabeth picked up Flossie when she was done with the massage and nuzzled her against her chin. “Listen to how loudly she’s purring. I think she liked it.” She handed Flossie to Alice. “I’m glad you came by, Alice. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”