Page 13 of Owen (Blue Team #1)

I had no idea what had gotten into me but I knew it felt good.

Damn good.

So good that I was going to continue to live in my make-believe world.

I would use this time to bank as many good memories as I could so when I didn’t have Owen anymore I’d still have something.

In real life, I wasn’t allowed to keep anything, but not even my uncle could take my memories.

So I was going to rack them up and keep them close.

I was going to memorize everything I could.

I was going to chop wood and wear boots.

I was going to cook to my heart’s desire.

I was going to sweep and clean. And I might even talk more, but I wasn’t sure about that yet. That required a lot of courage.

But everything else I was going to do.

I finished with my shower, got dressed, and in the mirror I smiled at my bare face.

It had been months since I’d worn a face full of makeup and I liked it.

It felt good. I glanced up at my hair and I smiled bigger.

Just me. No fancy cut—thank God. No salon-given highlights.

Natural hair that was way longer than I normally wore.

I liked that, too. I hoped when my uncle got his filthy hands back on me he didn’t demand I cut it.

Enough , I chastised.

I was not going to think about Wilco Pollaski.

I was going to live in my dream world for as long as I could.

I was going to be Natasha.

And for once in my miserable life, I felt good.

I didn’t miss the flutter in my belly, the sensation wholly new.

It was different than the butterflies I got when I was near Owen.

I understood what those were—pure unholy need.

Straight up desire. Just because I’d never actually felt desire for a man didn’t mean I didn’t recognize the feeling.

This was different, this I couldn’t comprehend.

This made me feel dizzy with unknown anticipation.

I wanted to twirl around like a child.

A very unwelcomed thought hit me square in the chest. I was a woman.

I had been sent to Switzerland for finishing school.

I hadn’t been allowed to attend college.

No, that was a waste of money since I’d never hold a job but I knew useless information such as the difference between a butter knife, salad knife, meat knife, and fish knife.

Soup spoon and dessert spoon. I could set a proper table—all twenty-three pieces from a water goblet to a sherry glass.

Who needed to know that? Social graces and proper etiquette for every situation.

I was refined. I was taught how to walk, sit, stand, and speak. I was no better than a trained dog.

But you know what I wasn’t taught? How to think for myself. How to be brave. How to live on my own, pay bills, cook, clean. But most of all I had no idea how to be normal.

I was a robot.

The guys probably thought I was silly and immature after my stupidity about the firewood.

Owen probably thought I was an idiot. I mean, who got excited about splitting wood and owning sneakers.

Thank God, I hadn’t told him how happy I was to wear a cool-as-hell pair of work pants.

And boots. Gabe had bought me a pair of snow boots.

I grew up in Chicago, it snowed there—a lot.

Yet I’d never worn an honest-to-goodness pair of warm snow boots.

I’d never worn leather work gloves. Nor had I ever worn a knitted wool beanie.

I had mink hats, cashmere, vintage Burberry. But a regular knit skullcap—no way.

I wanted this life so desperately I could taste it.

I wanted all of it.

And if I was being completely honest, I wanted Owen, too. I wanted to keep him forever but I’d settle for having him only while I lived in my make-believe dreamland.

“Hey.”

I jumped away from the mirror and found Kevin standing in the open doorway of the bedroom. “Damn. Sorry. I thought you heard me.”

“Lost in thought,” I mumbled.

“Must not have been very good thoughts the way you were frowning.”

Damn. Now what did I do?

“Um.”

“Again, sorry. That was probably rude. I’m not known for my tact. Or maybe my delivery is bad. But I didn’t mean to be impolite.”

Well, there was some honesty for you .

I didn’t know Kevin well. Actually, I didn’t know any of the guys well except for Owen and now Gabe.

Not that a handful of words made you know someone but Gabe had shown kindness and he’d been sincere and open about something that I’d assume was private.

I found it unlikely a man like him would go around telling stories about having to accept food from strangers.

Shit. I hadn’t asked him anything about that. I hadn’t offered him my condolences. People did that, right? Friends, people who were getting to know each other, they asked questions. God, he must’ve thought I was an insensitive twit.

“How old are you?”

Where in the world did that come from?

Kevin’s lips twitched but he seemed unoffended when he answered, “Forty-five.”

“Forty-five?”

My shock must’ve registered on my face because he smiled huge.

“That surprises you?”

“Well, yeah. You don’t look forty-five. I’d guess you were closer to my age.”

“I have a lot to say about that, however, none of it Owen would appreciate. So, I’ll simply say thank you for the compliment.”

What did that mean? Why would Owen care about what Kevin might say?

“You’re welcome,” I muttered.

“Don’t clam up on me now.”

“Huh?”

“You get this look, right before you close down. Like you have something to say but lock the words away. Your cheeks tinge pink and it looks painful, babe. As I said, I’m bad with delivery.

I’m far too blunt and I know it but I’ve never understood why people dance around a topic or waste time using five-thousand words when it could’ve been said in ten.

So, I say it straight but for you, I’ll try to go easy.

You’re safe to say whatever you want to say.

Act how you want to act. None of us are gonna hurt you.

Just don’t clam up. Say what’s on your mind. ”

“Everything is on my mind.”

“Everything?” he asked with a smile.

“Everything,” I confirmed.

“Then you better start talking.”

“What if no one likes what I have to say? ”

Sweet Mary mother of God. Where did that come from?

“You a bitch?”

I felt my body tense and I didn’t know how to answer that.

“I don’t know.”

Kevin busted out laughing. I had the sense he wasn’t laughing at me but I still got an uneasy feeling.

“You’re not a bitch.”

“How do you know, when I don’t even know? Maybe I am. I’ve never been allowed to be one. Maybe I’ll try being one and I’ll like it.”

“Right. Go ahead, I’d like to see you try. That’ll be fun to watch.”

My back snapped straight, I lifted my chin in what I hoped was indignation, and I narrowed my eyes. This had the opposite effect of what I was hoping for. I knew because Kevin started chuckling.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun. You should totally try being a bitch for the night.”

“Whatever,” I huffed. “Was there something you needed?” I asked haughtily.

“Yeah, there was,” he told me with his body still shaking with humor.

Damn. I was really bad at this bitch business.

“Well?” I prompted.

“You mentioned dinner. I’m gonna grill steaks. You got everything else.”

“Grill steaks in the snow?”

“Rain, sleet, snow doesn’t matter. When there are steaks to be grilled you brave the elements.”

“Jeez, you must really like meat,” I mumbled.

“Again, so much to say. However Owen would kick my ass if I said them.”

“Why would you say that? ”

“Because I know Owen. He wouldn’t appreciate me standing in the doorway of his room making you blush.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It does to me and does to Owen. But it's cute you have no idea what I’m talking about.”

“You’re a strange man, Kevin.”

“I’ve been called a lot of things, strange has never been one of them. But we’ll go with that. It’s safer for me if you tell Owen you think I’m strange rather than you telling him we had a conversation about my meat.”

What?

Then a little inkling of what he might be saying tickled the back of my brain.

“Are you trying to make a sex joke?” I asked.

Kevin didn’t answer. What he did do was laugh.

“I should be scandalized,” I told him and he laughed harder.

“Scandalized,” he sputtered.

“And I didn’t think men liked their members being referred to as meat .”

“Members?” he asked through laughter.

“Or junk. Am I wrong? I wouldn’t know, but that’s what I’ve read.”

“Christ, you’re hilarious. You should ask Owen what he prefers his member being called.”

Yeah, no.

That was never going to happen.

Kevin pushed away from the doorframe. Still smiling he said, “Meat’s going on the grill in ten minutes.”

“Steaks,” I corrected.

“Right, steaks. Better get your ass downstairs in the kitchen, woman. We’re all starved.”

“Woman?”

Kevin didn’t answer, he walked away laughing.

“I have a name!” I shouted at his back .

“You have multiple names. Pick one and stick to it,” he returned without looking back at me and I froze.

I did have multiple names.

One I hated. One I gave myself.

Without thinking I blurted out, “Natasha.”

“Good choice.”

Good choice.

Choice .

My frozen insides thawed. I made a choice. A good one.

I could do this. I could make choices. I was going to make choices.

And my first one was going to be… no, my second one was going to be to live in this world.

The one that I created in the here and now in a cabin in Idaho with Owen.

Yes, that was my choice and I was sticking to it.

No changing my mind, no matter what. Even if I got scared I was going to listen to Owen, I was going to stop breathing and start living.

Well, I was going to keep breathing as that was a necessity to live, but I was going to live my life.

I didn’t care I half-skipped down the stairs.

I didn’t care all eyes—minus Kevin’s who was still upstairs—were on me.

And when I glanced at the roaring fire I smiled huge.

I’d split that wood. Me. With my own two hands.

Of course, I wasn’t thinking about Owen teaching me how.

I wasn’t going to think about how good it felt having his big, solid body pressed to my back.

I wasn’t going to think about how he’d given me a minute to enjoy the feeling that being in his arms created.

If I was lucky, he thought I was asking for a moment to feel his hard-on.

That was not the first time I’d felt the hard length of him pressed against me. Not even the second time.

“And…she smiles,” Gabe noted.

Without looking at him I said, “I cut that wood.”

“You did. All six pieces.”

That made my gaze slice to his.

“Are you making fun of me? ”

“Nope.”

“Good. Because Kevin’s grilling meat . Which means I’m making the sides. And I’d hate for you to have an unfortunate bout of diarrhea.”

“Jesus,” Owen muttered.

“Oh, now she’s got jokes.” Gabe laughed.

“ She has a name. It’s Natasha or Nat. And she’s not joking, she’s threatening to poison your food. Though I don’t think Ex-Lax is high on the Poison Control’s list of dangerous substances but I can assure you, your butthole might differ before the night is over.”

Utter silence ensued. It was so quiet it was deafening. Only the crackling of the fire could be heard and I was scared shitless—the irony wasn’t lost on me—that I’d made a huge mistake.

That was, until the crackling was replaced with raucous, thundering laughter. It filled the room. No, it filled the cabin. And it warmed me straight through.

Straight. Through.

“I’ve been ordered to the kitchen,” I mumbled and scurried away.

Not because hearing their laughter didn’t feel good.

It did. It was the best feeling in the world.

But more than that, it was Owen’s smile.

The way he was staring at me with approval and pride made me want to flee.

I was going to try on this new me. I was going to be brave.

But seeing Owen look at me like that made me greedy.

It made me want to run across the room, jump in his arms, and beg him to pretend with me.

It made me want to invite him into my dreamland where we could live together as a couple.

Where he’d pretend to love me and I could tell him the truth about how I felt about him and he’d gladly accept my affection.

But that wasn’t going to happen. He’d made it clear where we stood. Friends. Nothing more.