by Erin Bevan
“But I have no doubt I could have done a better job.” He heard May’s heels shuffling on the tile.
“Yeah?” He avoided looking at her. “Well, I think Kit did a pretty fantastic job. And according to everyone out there, I think they would say the same.”
Nine o’clock: Flapper-tini, half price. Check.
Ten o’clock: Swing-a-thon. Yep, happening now. The three couples Kit had hired from Houston did a bang-up job of keeping the crowd jazzed and ready to dance, which kept the liquor orders flowing.
“She did do better than that Easter disaster, but Brant, you know, I’ve always felt we could make a perfect team.”
The hairs on the back of his neck stood as he sensed May creeping closer. She’d had a crush on him in high school that ran deep. He’d hoped once her aunt and his dad got married, she’d push the thought aside. They were, after all, cousins now. Even if only by marriage. And her speaking ill of Kit only boiled his blood toward her. He had to stop her in every way. No more hoping she would take the hint.
“May. I don’t…” he glanced to the side, “…app—”
She pounced him, her painted red lips full, hot, and heavy on his as she practically lay on top of him, smashing him against his desk. He raised his hands to push her off, and instead of her shoulders got a giant feel of her breasts.
Shit.
The noise from the bar got louder, as a gasp echoed through the office.
Brant moved his hands to May’s shoulders and pushed her off him before he glanced to the side. Kit stood in the doorway, her face more ashen than when he left her sick in his bed that morning. He jumped to his feet, wiping the red rouge off his lips. May’s lipstick smeared the back of his hand, and he could only imagine what his face looked like.
Damn May.
“Kit, I swear, it’s not what it looks like.”
“Lord, aren’t you always the party spoiler,” May barked.
“May, shut up and get out.” He pointed to the door.
“It doesn’t matter.” Kit backed up. “I…umm…I think I’m just going to…” she backed up and headed into the crowd.
No. He had to fix this. Kit was the best thing that had ever happened to him. And it was all his fault. If he’d just told her the truth from the beginning, she would know he and May would never be. That May was his damn cousin.
He ran after Kit through the swing dancers in the crowd. “Kit, please stop. She’s my cousin,” he yelled over the noise.
A few in the crowd stopped and stared as Kit paused and turned around. “You kiss your cousin?” She peered at him, her face full of disgust.
Their argument caught even more attention of the crowd as they stared at his face. He wiped his mouth again with the back of his hand, more red staining his palm.
“No. Yes. I mean no. No, I don’t kiss my cousin. She’s technically not my real cousin.”
“So… then…you just kiss other women?”
“Yes. No.” He held up his hands and shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant.” Shit, he just made a worse mess out of this.
“Well, don’t worry. You don’t have to figure it out. I’m out of here.” Kit stepped back into the crowd and headed for the exit.
“Kit, wait.” He ran after her, pushing through the crowd. “Kit, please.” He grabbed her arm and stopped her in the alley. “Let me explain.”
“Is there a problem here?” A bouncer he employed crossed two muscular arms and puffed out his chest, ready to defend Kit.
“Everything’s fine.” He released his hand from her. “I would never hurt her.”
“Not physically, anyway.” Kit rolled her eyes, tears pricking them.
His father and Regina raced to him in the alley and scooted to his side. “Son.” His dad placed a hand on his shoulder. “Is everything all right? You were gathering quite a crowd.”
No shit, Dad.
“Dad?” Kit pointed to his father. “How is Mayor Fuller your dad? You said your last name was Forrest.”
This is not how this was supposed to go.
“Forrest was my mother’s last name,” he admitted. “I didn’t tell you my last name because you were the only person in my circle who didn’t know who I was or who my dad was. I liked how open you were with me, so I lied to you. It was wrong and selfish. I’m sorry.” He slumped his shoulders and dipped his head toward the cracked asphalt.
“And May…that means she is your cousin. Do you make a habit of kissing and groping your cousin, too, like you do lying to women?” Kit crossed her arms.
“Groping your cousin?” Regina gasped. “Brantley, I swear.”
“Now, Regina.” His dad held up a hand. “I’m sure there is an explanation.”
“Yeah.” Brant’s jaw tightened. “There is. She kissed me, damn it. I did not kiss her, and when I reached to push her off, I ended up grabbing her…her…” He stared back at Kit. Her lips pressed together as she shook her head, still not believing his story. “Her breasts, shit. It was an accident, Kit, I swear, and I did not kiss her.”
“This is…” Kit threw up her hands and backed up. “This is too much. I’m leaving.”
“Kit, please, wait.”
She shook her head and gave him one last look as a tear streamed down her cheek.
“Kit,” he yelled.
“Let her go, son.” His dad squeezed his shoulder again, preventing him from running after her. “If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”
Brant threw his head to the dark sky. “Damn it.”
Cheers from the crowd erupted inside. He swiveled quickly, staring at the door, then hurriedly reached in his pocket to check his phone. Eleven p.m. Shit. He’d missed his thank-you speech, and a million pieces of confetti just covered every patron in the bar. Their drinks, their food, everything. At least it was just paper.
May stepped down the steps of the entrance, bright pieces of confetti falling off her black dress. “Well, that was exciting.” She flicked a bright pink square off her shoulder. “You can do better than her anyway, Brant. I did you a favor.”
“May, leave now.” He pressed his lips together; his jaw clenched so tight he thought it might get stuck.
“I agree,” his stepmother defended him. “May, you’ve shamed yourself and your uncle as well as your cousin at such an important time.”
“Yeah, well, he wouldn’t be my cousin if you hadn’t gone off and married his dad.” May pointed to Brant’s father. “Want to talk about shaming? You sure didn’t waste any time marrying your best friend’s husband.”
Regina sucked back a breath. As much as he didn’t want to agree with May, he had to on this subject.
“Actually she brings up a good point.” Brant nodded and placed his hands on his hips. “While we are on this topic, why exactly did you two get married? I have to know because the whole situation, not six months after Mom died, seems a little shady.”
“See, I told you we would make a good team.” May smirked.
“Don’t push it.” Brant snarled.
“Regina, dear,” his father stepped in using his diplomatic mayor tone. “Why don’t you and May catch a ride home together. I’m going to talk to Brant alone. All right?”
Regina stared at his dad, then simply nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. Long overdue. Come on, May.” Regina and his conniving step-cousin marched down the alley to May’s little sports car.
He let out a deep breath and stared at his dad. Really stared at his dad for the first time since his mom died. The man looked older and tired. Brant ached for the lost years with his father, the years of bitterness and anger, but he needed answers.
“Brant, when your mom was alive, she often talked about her death.”
Whoa. What a weird thing to say.
“Come again?”
“She always worried how I would take care of you kids if she passed. Insisted on getting each of us set up with life insurance policies, and she always told me that if she ever did pass on, she would want me to remar
ry.”
Brant shook his head from side to side. “Dad, that’s just weird.” He took a deep breath before he stilled and slipped his hands in his pockets.
“Maybe to you, but to a person like your mother, a person who loved with all her heart, she just wanted to make sure those she loved were cared for. She prayed every night for you and your sister. That you would each find passion in life. A passion for your job, your spouse, extra circular activities—just passion.” His dad put his hands in his pockets as well and kicked a rock in the road with the tip of his shoe. “When she got the inkling that you loved history, she tried to encourage it to flourish. I, on the other hand, hoped you would take that love for history and study government, politics, something that I loved so we could have a bond together.” The man shrugged his large shoulders.
His dad urging him to follow in his footsteps made more sense now. The man just wanted something to bond with his only son over.
“I’ll admit, I was hurt when you didn’t send me an invitation to the opening, but I understood why. I’ve never shown much interest in what you do, but make no mistake, I’m proud all the same. This bar, what you’ve done here, it’s truly amazing.” His dad waved a hand in the air, focusing on the brick building. “Even Regina is proud for you.”
“I have a hard time believing that.”
“She is, Brant. When your mom died, it hit her just as hard as me. Maybe even harder. The two were best friends, and Regina was in the car, holding your mom’s hand as she took her last breath. It’s something she’s never forgotten and never will.”
Perhaps that’s why Regina always seemed to have a stick up her butt after the accident. Maybe the woman still hurt, too. A notion Brant had never considered, but the two women had been very close. Still, these facts didn’t answer his question.
“All of this may be true, but why did you marry her? Did you two have something before Mom died?”
“No.” His father stood tall. “Never. I swear that to you. True, I always thought Regina an attractive woman, but I was faithful to your mother. After Betsy died, Regina and I consoled each other in her loss. We started spending more time together, and our conversations turned from stories of your mother to just conversations between two adults. It didn’t take long to realize we had chemistry, and since we had both seen how life can take unexpected turns with your mother’s death, we decided we didn’t want to wait.”
“So, you just got married.”
“Yes. We did. I remember you received an invitation but didn’t show up.” His father’s eyes turned down, like Brant’s rejection had stung him, and his father’s hurt stung Brant.
“I’m sorry about that, Dad. I was angry.”
“I understand, son. So does Regina, even though she doesn’t always show it very well. But what I don’t understand is, why did you lie to Kit?”
Brant sighed. The million-dollar question.
“Honestly, after the Easter incident, she was mortified. And she felt Regina didn’t care for her. Kit is a breath of fresh air, so open and honest. I didn’t want to lose that. It seems like every time I tell someone I’m your son, they close up. Put on a front.”
“Yes.” His dad nodded. “That is the downfall of the political world. You never know who your true friends are.”
Brant had new respect for his father. Living from day to day not knowing if someone liked you because they liked you, or just liked you because they thought being your friend would get them some sort of benefit, had to be exhausting. Those were doubts he didn’t want to have with Kit.
“I didn’t want that type of relationship with her. I kept telling myself I would tell her the truth, but the timing was never right, and then before I knew it, we were in too deep.”
“I saw the paper printed your name as Brantley Forrest. I assumed it was a jab at me. Since you were mad at me about Regina and all. I guessed you didn’t want to be my son anymore.”
Brant’s heart ached. His father thought he hated him. “No, Dad. That wasn’t the case. I just wanted to keep Kit close. That’s all. It was wrong. I’m sorry.”
“Love makes a man do crazy things. But with social media, and your employees, even this town, how did you keep your last name a secret for even two weeks?”
“I got her to write up all the social media posts. If you look at our Facebook page it says Brantley Forrest not Fuller. She filled in the information and I didn’t correct her. Half of my staff, they are too young to know I’m your son. They were babies when I went off to college, or are implants from some other town since I’ve been away. Staffing wise, it was pretty easy to keep the secret.” Brant sighed. “But wrong. And now, I have to figure out how I’m going to get Kit back.”
“Well, you know the old saying— the truth shall set you free.”
“True. A wise bartender once told me the same thing. I just didn’t take his advice.”
“How about we go in and have a drink, on me? First thing tomorrow, you can fix your relationship with your lady.” His dad pulled him into a side hug.
Brant smiled. “That sounds like a great idea, but no worries, Pops. I got this one. I’ve got a couple of beers I want you to try.”
“Would love to.”
His father followed him back inside. Confetti littered the floor, and his earlier scene had been forgotten as patrons drank and ate. Happiness filled him as he poured his father a tumbler of his favorite homemade beer, while a swell of worry pulsed in the back of his mind.
Would Kit ever forgive him?
Chapter 10
Kit rushed down the alley to the bar, the morning sun peeking over the brick buildings. The cleaning crews were due to arrive in a few minutes. All she wanted to do was load up her belongings and make a clean break. Never seeing Brant again, never talking to him again, would be so much easier. Lord, two jobs in two weeks. No wonder her dad thought her incapable. And just when she thought she really had everything together, she’d let herself act dumb enough to fall for a guy like Brant. A liar. And kissing his cousin? What a disaster all of it was.
Before Kit opened her eyes this morning, she had hoped she was still in his bed. She wished the incident had been nothing more than an icky nightmare, that the sickness had caused her to have delusions, but she knew none of it had been a dream when her eyes met her pale white ceiling and her hands ran across her soft cotton sheets. Everything had been real, and the pain came soaring back like a beer bottle to her skull.
Brant lied to her and then used her. Not only did she feel heartbroken and angry, she felt cheap.
Bastard.
She unlocked the bar and slipped her way past the mess that was last night. Confetti sprinkled the floor like…well…like confetti, pieces sticking out of the feather flower arrangements she’d worked so hard on and even to the wall itself. The cleaning crew would love this job.
Not her problem. None of it her problem. She scooted to the kitchen and found an empty produce box, then took in a deep breath before she turned the handle to the office door, the place her heart had been shattered to fifty million pieces. Closing her eyes, she turned the handle and stepped through the threshold.
Letting out her deep breath, she opened her eyes, but instead of seeing an empty office, Brant sat at his desk. His head hung down as he worked on paperwork, a large bouquet of pink flowers on his desk beside him.
She placed the box in front of her, like a shield, as hot tears prickled her eyes again. Damn it. She should have expected him, but in their past two weeks together, he hadn’t shown up before nine. Why was he here at seven-thirty?
“Kit.” Brant stood, eyeing the box in her hand. “You’re leaving?”
“I think after last night, it’s best.” She rushed past him to her desk and tossed the box on top, avoiding eye contact.
Hastily, she pulled her drawers open one by one and began throwing stuff inside the box; the bristling crunch of a few left-over onion shells in the carrier and the sound of her objects colliding with the cardboard
were the only noises between them.
“Kit, please.” Brant held out his hand to stop her. “Please, don’t leave. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but I promise, there is nothing between May and I. Remember the first night we were at Jake’s together? You mentioned her, and I told you I knew of her. That wasn’t a lie. May is my step-cousin. I know her reputation. Before we were cousins, she liked me. I never, and have never, and will never like May. That I can promise you. I didn’t lie to you the other night when I told you I would always need you. I will always need you, Kit. As crazy and as fast as this sounds, I can feel it all the way to my bones. I need you. Always. Please don’t leave.”
His voice dropped to a whisper at the end of his request, the words raw and tortured as they came out. Damn him.
Her grip on her stapler slacked, while the prickling feeling in her eyes she sensed a minute ago turned into full-blown, hot, ugly tears. He might not want May, and what he is saying may be true, but he’d still lied.
“Why did you lie to me, Brant? Why? This entire time you kept from me who you were.”
“Because you were so honest about everything. The minute I tell someone in this town I am Brant Fuller, they clam up. Or, they want to talk politics or avoid it all together, but they never talk to me. Just me. You did. You talked to me, and I know it’s selfish to say, but I liked it. I liked how we are together. And I wanted to keep it that way. I thought about telling you a million times, but then you would do something or say something that made me fall for you all over again, and I knew. I just knew if I told you the truth our dynamic would change. I didn’t want that.”
“You fell for me?”
“Every day for that last two weeks. And a million times over during the night we shared together. I may have lied about my name, but I’m not lying when I tell you this, I want to give us a real shot, Kit. I care for you. Deeply.”
Damn.
More ugly tears fell down her cheeks. Still, he should have been honest. “You should have had more faith in me.”
“You’re right. I should have. I’m sorry, and I won’t make the same mistake again.”
