It Wasn't Me Read online

  It was also why I was the only virgin left out of my three sisters. Even my baby sister had found someone to rid her of that pesky piece of tissue.

  “Now what are you thinking about?” he asked.

  “Dating,” I told him, semi telling the truth. “About how my sister set me up on a blind date that I’ll have to cancel when I get home.”

  “Why will you have to cancel it?” he asked.

  I grimaced and crossed my arms over my chest.

  “I didn’t want to go on it in the first place,” I admitted. “I told her I would because she practically begged me. But now, I have a legitimate excuse not to go.”

  He snorted. “If you don’t want to go, you shouldn’t have to go, no matter if your sister wants you to go or not. Making your siblings happy all the time is impossible, anyway.”

  “You sound like you have advanced knowledge in that particular subject,” I said, hearing the engines start.

  My breath hitched, and he reached out absently and caught my hand, seemingly unaware of what that did to me.

  He had no clue that the moment his hand touched mine, my heart started to race. That I was clutching it for more than just because I was scared.

  “I do,” he chuckled, picking his voice up and turning slightly to me so that he could be heard over the engines. “I have a big brother who’s also on the police force with me at Kilgore, and a big sister.”

  “And they tell you what to do and what not to do?” I asked curiously.

  “Not anymore,” he admitted. “When I was younger, I tried to please them. But now, not so much. My big brother was pissed that I left instead of staying to ride out whatever the fuck was going on with the accident. When I chose to leave, I knew that he was pissed.”

  “I’m not sure what it matters whether you were here or there,” I admitted. “I mean, if you’re off without being paid…”

  His mouth kicked up at the corner. “I’m a constant disappointment to my brother. I’m in my forties now, and the man still treats me like I’m that fifteen-year-old punk kid who disappointed him on a daily basis.”

  “You don’t look like you’re in your forties,” I admitted. “And your brother is always going to be worried about you. That’s what my dad tells me, anyway, when my sisters interfere in my life.”

  He sighed and tightened his hand when the plane started to move.

  My breath hitched.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, knowing that he would understand what for.

  He winked at me. “It’s no hardship. I won’t let go until you’re ready.”

  And he didn’t. He held my hand for the next couple of hours. And it was only as we were separating to our rides—him to his long-term parking spot, and me to my mother’s SUV—that he let me go.

  “Take care of yourself, Piper Mackenzie.”

  I smiled at the man. “You, too, Jonah Crew.”

  Chapter 3

  My sexual preference is often.

  -things you don’t want to hear about your sister

  Piper

  I smiled down at my dad, who did indeed look pretty banged up.

  “You look awful,” I told him.

  He grimaced and lifted his hand. “Luckily everything is sprains except for these two fingers. Sprained wrist, sprained knee, sprained ankle, and a sprained shoulder. Tore a ligament in my ankle, too, but they say that’ll be fine in about six weeks. Which is about the time they say all the sprains should be taken care of, too.”

  I looked at the multitude of bruising, cuts, abrasions and other random injuries and shook my head.

  “You’re lucky,” I said softly. “That could’ve been so bad.”

  He grunted out an agreeing tone. “Give me a hug, girl.”

  I leaned forward without missing a beat and wrapped my arms around my father’s broad shoulders.

  “You scared the absolute shit out of me,” I admitted. “That was the scariest phone call I’ve ever gotten in my life.”

  He squeezed me tight, despite, I was sure, it causing him pain.

  “Sorry, honey. Wish I could’ve spared you that phone call. I know getting them while you’re gone sucks,” he said, squeezing me just a little tighter before letting me go. “You’re here now, though. How does it feel to be free?”

  I grimaced. “Like I should’ve stayed.”

  He laughed. “It’ll feel like that for a while, I’m sure. But you had a solid reason for leaving. You don’t like to travel, and you did what you set out to accomplish. I’m not seeing anything that you should feel guilty for. Except for the fact that you forgot to sneak me in that milkshake I asked your mother to stop for.”

  I grinned. “I actually had it in my hand, about to bring it in, when she took it and threw it into the trash.”

  “That was because, despite you being in here and sick, you still have a cholesterol problem, and you still have high blood pressure. You also are on the verge of high blood sugar since you’ve been in here, and a goddamn milkshake isn’t going to help that,” my mother said stubbornly from the chair across the room.

  She looked like she’d set up shop over there. There was a pillow, blanket, books, her phone charger, and even her laptop.

  “What the hell, Mom?” I said. “Did you move in?”

  She scrunched up her nose at me.

  “I’m still working,” she admitted. “I’m just doing it not from my office.”

  My mother was the ER director for the hospital that we were currently in.

  “They couldn’t let you be free for a couple of days?” I asked curiously.

  “We’re in the middle of a hospital merger,” she admitted. “Some big wigs out of Dallas are buying us out, and they want a full case workup of the workings of the ER. I would’ve normally said ‘I’ll do it when I can’ but I’m fairly sure they’re going to cut my department budget in half, so I want to make sure they know that I need everything that I have, and more.”

  I smiled. I loved that my mother fought for those that worked under her.

  “Have you thought about working for me?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “I guess I could.”

  She snorted. “Don’t sound so excited.”

  “I’m not really excited,” I admitted. “I don’t want to work in the ER, but then again, I don’t really want to work anywhere.”

  Dad started chuckling beside me. “Welcome to life, kid.”

  What I really wanted to be was a stay-at-home mom, one that took care of her children and her husband all day. But, seeing as not only did I not have the kids, but the husband either, I didn’t think that was in the cards for me any time soon.

  “Were you able to get a refund on your car auction tickets?” I asked, changing the subject.

  Dad grimaced. “Nope.”

  “Shit,” I said. “Those cost a mint.”

  “Which is why you’re going to the auction without me,” he said, brooking no room for argument. “We were going to go, and you’re really excited. I’ve volunteered your mother.”

  I was already shaking my head. “I’m not going with her,” I disagreed. “In fact, since everyone’s working, I’m going to go by myself.”

  I didn’t want to go by myself.

  But I would if it meant that I’d get to bid on the car that my dad had been dying to have. It just meant that I’d have to take a flight to Vegas, by myself, and that terrified me as it always did.

  “You don’t have to go,” he all of a sudden said. “I don’t need the car.”

  I waved him off.

  “I’ll be fine,” I promised.

  He grinned and pulled me down to sit on the side of his hospital bed.

  “Tell me about this new apartment,” he said. “I never got a chance to go and look at it.”

  I hadn’t gotten a chance to sign the lease, either.

  “Shit,” I said, standing right back up. “I gotta go over there and sign the lease! I was s
upposed to do that two days ago!”

  His eyes sparkled.

  “Mom, can I borrow your car?” I asked.

  She tossed me the keys. “Be careful.”

  I ran out of the hospital room like my ass was on fire.

  And when I arrived at the apartment complex where I was planning on living—hoping that I could still live there—I was sweating.

  Pulling into the nearest spot to the front office, I bailed out and ran inside, smiling at the woman behind the desk.

  “Hi, my name is Piper Mackenzie.”

  The woman’s face went flat.

  “Hello,” she said, sounding annoyed.

  She’d been quite bitchy sounding over the phone. She was worse in person.

  “I’m here to sign my lease paperwork,” I said hopefully. “I apologize for being late. My father was…”

  “I’ve already signed the lease with someone else,” she interrupted me. “I can put you on the list, though.”

  I wasn’t one to argue when I knew the point was moot, but I had to try.

  “Ma’am,” I said softly. “My father was in an accident. I just spent the last two days traveling here from Germany. I know that you said it needed to be turned in quickly, but I had extenuating circumstances…”

  She didn’t even bat an eyelash.

  “Do you know how many ‘extenuating circumstances’ I have to deal with?” she asked bluntly. “I have a chick in 4B that I’m going to have to kick out here in a couple of days because her mother died and she’s two months behind on rent. I have someone in 3F that her dog got hit by a car, and she has so many medical bills that she’s now a month behind. I have a man in 2D that’s dying of cancer. He has two months to live, and he’s three months behind on rent. Trust me when I say, you’re nothing special.”

  I bit my lip.

  When she put it like that, their problems were more serious than mine. So serious, in fact, that mine looked feeble and stupid.

  “Okay,” I said softly. “Yes, I’d like to be put on the list.”

  She nodded once. “You’re there. The next time I have an opening, I’ll call.” She paused. “That looks to be about two months.”

  The way she said it made me realize that the man with cancer’s apartment would be free soon, and that hurt my heart.

  “Uhh, take your time,” I stuttered.

  The woman’s mouth twitched. “I’m hoping it does, honey.”

  With that, she waved me away, clearly dismissing me.

  I left, knowing that I probably wouldn’t be getting an apartment there.

  As much as I liked the newly built, smack in the middle of the city with great security apartment complex, I couldn’t live at home for very long.

  I could live with my sisters, but I wasn’t really wanting to intrude on their newly-formed families.

  Both of my sisters had children now, and both of their husbands, although nice, probably wouldn’t appreciate me taking over their guest rooms for the foreseeable future.

  Sighing, I got into my mother’s car—which reminded me that I needed a new car on top of everything else. Though I loved my Roadrunner, it definitely wasn’t a drive it every day kind of vehicle—and started driving back to the hospital.

  My mind was elsewhere, completely focused on what the hell I was supposed to do now, when a cat went barreling into the road.

  That cat was followed by a man—a very familiar man.

  One second, I was driving at a steady clip, and the next I was on the shoulder of the road, and unable to move.

  I blinked, trying to focus my head, but couldn’t.

  What the hell had just happened?

  More to the point, what the hell was Jonah doing crossing the road chasing a goddamn cat?

  Absently I tried to get out of the car, only to find myself stuck.

  There was a tree—one that I luckily didn’t hit—blocking my way out.

  And I was facing a completely opposite direction now as to what I’d been driving about twenty seconds before.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?” I heard Jonah’s worried voice. I turned to look at him, and he sucked in a breath. “Pip.”

  I blinked. “You made me wreck!”

  He grimaced.

  “Technically,” he said softly. “You were driving way too fast. It’s only twenty-five on this road because it’s residential. Also, I didn’t cause it. Pickles caused it.”

  I frowned.

  “Pickles?” I asked.

  He held up a cat—the cat that he’d been chasing—and it wriggled in his hands.

  “Uhh,” I swallowed hard. “Did I completely break my mother’s car?”

  He stepped back, performed a complete circuit of the vehicle, and then once again stopped at my window.

  “You have a blown front tire,” he said. “That’s it.”

  I dropped my head to my chest and blew out a breath.

  “Oh, thank God,” I said softly. “That would’ve been awful.”

  He walked around and opened the passenger door for me and gestured for me to crawl over.

  “Come on,” he said. “My house is right there. You can go hang inside while I change the tire.”

  I found myself moving before I’d even had half a chance to tell my body to do so.

  “Don’t you know better than to run out into the road after an animal?” I found myself asking as I crawled over the center console.

  He extended a hand and helped me, making me realize that this was a hell of a lot harder than it looked.

  “Yes,” he said. “But when I looked, you were far enough away that I thought I could make it.”

  I made a harrumphing sound and looked down at the ditch I was in.

  There was no way that I’d survive the fall out of the vehicle.

  He started to laugh and caught me up by the hips before gathering me to his chest much like the cat already was.

  “Ummm,” I said, not sure what to do with my legs.

  Did I wrap them around his hips? Did I just let them dangle there?

  What do I do?

  He figured it out for me as he set me down on my feet.

  “I just dug these out today with the tractor,” he said. “The ground’s pretty solid.”

  “You dug them out?” I asked. “Why?”

  He handed the cat to me.

  I took it, staring at it with wide eyes.

  “The rain that comes through here floods the road out,” he answered. “I go in here once a year or so and dig it out to make sure that the water has somewhere else to flow instead of on the road.”

  I made a noise of understanding.

  “You have a Persian cat,” I found myself saying, unable to help myself.

  “Yeah,” he said. “A Persian asshole cat that likes to escape whenever he can and run toward the neighbor’s house that has a fuckin’ unfixed male cat.”

  “Is she fixed?” I questioned.

  He shook his head. “No. That was one of the requirements of my getting her. I couldn’t fix her.”

  “Who gave you those kind of requirements?” I asked curiously. “The breeder?”

  He shook his head. “No. I actually got her from the vet. She has a bleeding disorder that prevents her from clotting. They deemed the surgery too dangerous, and the breeders gave her away for free. I got her from the vet, not the breeder.”

  “Huh,” I found myself saying. “That’s kind of scary, actually. There’s nothing they can do to prevent it?”

  He shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “They tried. She doesn’t respond well to medication. So…we’re all just hoping that she lives and shit at this point, and never gets hurt.”

  I shook my head and walked with him to the dirt driveway.

  “You live here?” I found myself asking.

  “Yeah.” He gestured up ahead. “Built the house about two years ago.”

  We topped the hill of the driveway, and
my breath left my body.

  “You have a log cabin,” I breathed.

  I’d always dreamed about living in one of them. When I’d talk with my dad, it was always a house like the one I was currently looking at that was my dream.

  “It’s beautiful,” I found myself saying. “How did you build it yourself?”

  He grinned and gestured for me to continue walking.

  “There’s a place down the road from here that sells log cabin kits,” he answered. “All I had to do was get a pad done, and a slab poured over the pad to the kit’s dimensions. From there, I was able to build it with what they delivered.”

  “Like Lincoln Logs on steroids,” I snickered.

  “Yeah,” he confirmed. “Only I had to use my tractor to put the walls up.”

  “Did you do it all yourself?” I asked.

  At that point, we’d made it to the front yard, and up close it was even more impressive.

  “Yes,” he said. “Everything but the wiring, anyway. I knew I could do it, but seeing as the damn thing was made out of nothing but wood, I thought it best to go ahead and get the wiring done by professionals. Seeing as if that bitch burns, it’s going to burn all the way down to the ground.”

  I winced.

  “It’s really beautiful, though,” I said softly.

  The entire thing was all beautiful timber and glass windows. There was a wraparound porch, from what I could see, and the front door was a soft lavender.

  “Lavender?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “My sister chose the color.”

  I smiled.

  “Those are some serious windows,” I said. “How do you clean them?”

  “I don’t.” He snorted. “They haven’t been washed since I built the damn house.”

  I laughed, and he gestured for me to follow him up the steps.

  “I have the intention of cleaning them one of these days,” he said as he opened his front door. “Don’t put her down until the door’s all the way closed. The bitch is an escape artist.”

  I did as he said and placed the quite snuggly kitty down onto the couch before taking a step back and looking at the ceilings.

  “Wow,” I breathed.

  The inside was quite possibly more beautiful than the outside.